How Bad Can I Be?
by Onc3l8rWagon
Summary: The Once-Ler isn't having much luck with his thneed selling when he meets young Norma Harlow, perhaps the only one there who realizes his potential. And so a friendship is quickly forged as the two of them try to get a jumpstart to his business. But what happens when that turns into just a little bit more? Originally posted on deviantArt, but now moving here! NormaLer. Enjoy!
1. Chapter One: Everybody Needs A Thneed

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, not making any money off 'em. Just playing in someone else's sandbox here. ;D Enjoy the fanfiction, and I'd love to hear a review from you!**

* * *

Nights in the Truffula Forest were always calm, it seemed. In all the time that Once-Ler had been out here, trying his best to sell his wares, he had never seen it so much as drizzle. But surely there had to be some form of precipitation out here, otherwise the colorful foliage would never be able to grow as tall and vibrantly as they did. Still, he had been here for nearly two weeks now, and a raindrop had yet to fall from the sky. Tonight was no exception. The sky was especially beautiful, velvety blue and dappled with bright stars. Once-Ler cast an occassional admiring glance through the nearby window as he composed a new letter to home, his writing sloping across the paper in its typical messy scrawl.

"'Dear Mom'," he read aloud, holding the paper to the light. "'You promised that you would write me, but since I haven't heard from you yet, I guess I'll just jump the gun. I thought you might want to hear that I'm hard at work making thneeds. Sales have been...'"

He stopped reading at that point, his brow furrowing with concentration as he stared at the page. He had stopped writing right there, unable to choose a word that would best describe his current predicament. He hated having to admit that not a single person had shown even the slightest interest in buying his product, especially when his family had given him such grief about it in the first place. But there was no point in trying to lie to them, was there? She would find out eventually, he was sure. He had never been a great liar, anyway. Sighing, he put the paper back down on his desk, twiddling his pen in between his index finger and thumb absently as he thought. After a few moments, an idea occurred to him; nodding with silent approval with himself, he bent over the desk and quickly finished the sentence.

With a newfound confidence, he lifted the paper again and read the completed sentence aloud. "'Sales have been slow, but I imagine that once people realize how important that my invention really is, they'll come around.'"

The words flowed a little better now, the ideas coming faster than before. He put the paper down again, writing down whatever he felt like adding in. He knew that his mother would want success stories, but some part of him suspected that she would love stories of his failure even more. After all, as much as he loved his family, they had all spent most of their time putting him down. His mother especially. For a family with such incredibly high standards, they were fairly poor. In fact, Once-Ler's main motivation behind going out and selling his thneeds to the public was to earn his family a little more money. And of course, the glory and recognition that came with changing the world didn't hurt, either. It would be nice to be noticed.

Having launched into the task ahead of him with a renewed fervor, he now stared contentedly at his completed letter. He smoothed the wrinkles out of the slightly rumpled sheet of paper, placing the pen down on his desk. Since the wooden desk was slanted, the pen rolled unceremoniously off the tabletop and clattered onto the floor, but he didn't pay it any mind. With an overdramatic flourish of his wrist, he cleared his throat and picked the letter up again.

"'I'll be heading into town again tomorrow to try a different sales pitch. I'm sure it will work out this time. Don't worry. I know you have a habit of doubting me, but please just trust me on this. I've found a really comfortable place to stay until my business gets going. Maybe you and the rest of the family might come down and pay me a visit sometime. If you can, of course. I'm not begging. Give Brett, Chet, Aunt Grizelda, and Uncle Ubb my best. Love, Oncie.'"

He cringed a little as he said his nickname. Not that he really minded being called 'Oncie', but given the steps he was trying to take with his career, it seemed incredibly childish. After all, he was a grown man now, and he was trying to make a good name for himself. It would be difficult to do that with that goofy pet name popping up everywhere he went. Then again, he doubted if his mother would even reply to the letter. She did stay fairly busy, after all, babying his two brothers. Not that he minded. Sure, sometimes his mother didn't see eye-to-eye with him, but they got along relatively well on most days. He knew of her secret desires to be wealthy, of her longing for a more successful family; all he was trying to do was help that dream along a little.

Now completely satisfied with the contents of his letter, he folded it neatly down the middle and reached for an envelope. Slipping the note inside, he sealed the envelope in a single neat movement. Once-Ler flipped it over and wrote down the proper addresses. He supposed he would mail it to them when he went into the city tomorrow, in another desperate attempt to sell some thneeds. He had been unsuccessful so far in his endeavors, but he was determined to keep positive. This bad luck streak couldn't possibly last forever. Could it?

"Tomorrow will be fine, I'm sure," he told himself, leaving the envelope on his desk as he got up from his chair and crossed the room.

He wasn't certain what time it was precisely, but he felt weary; for the past few hours, he had been hard at work, thinking of ways to improve his sales strategies. After spending so much time working his mind, he was ready to get some sleep. Feeling a little more confident about his business efforts, he slipped into his favorite bunny pajamas, placing his gray fedora on a shelf overtop of his bed. Yanking back the quilt covering his bed, he hopped into bed, suddenly in a lighter mood. Somehow, he would get their attention. This had to work.

* * *

The next morning, Once-Ler was in high spirits. After his typical morning routine - which now included feeding the Lorax and the barbaloots some of his breakfast - he was more than ready to get back into the urban area and start selling. As he got dressed and gathered all his belongings that he would need today, he found himself cheerily humming the tune to his new jingle. It was lighthearted and catchy, something that, coupled with his guitar, would surely catch the attention of at least one person. Smiling to himself, he grabbed his guitar and slung it over his shoulder, carrying the fluffy pink thneed in the crook of his left arm.

Striding briskly outside, he waved in greeting to Melvin, his mule, still tied up to a post with the wagon attached to the lower half of his body. "Hey," he said, remarkably peppy. "Ready to do some selling, buddy?"

Melvin snorted in response, and gave Once-Ler a look at he could have sworn looked very sarcastic. Choosing to ignore this, he jumped nimbly into the wagon, making himself comfortable for the trip ahead of them. It wasn't a very long distance to travel, but with so much anticipation burning inside him, even a few minutes would surely feel like an hour. To pass the time that it took to get to town, he strummed absently on his guitar. Occasionally, he would practice the new jingle he had composed, making sure that everything that needed tweaking was fixed now. Before he knew it, he was there.

Having come from a relatively small town, Once-Ler had been a little overwhelmed during his first few trips to this urban chaos. Now, though, he was quite accustomed to, and even on friendly terms with, the thriving, humming town that sprawled before him. The city itself was nothing too marvelous; it was the sheer amount of people living there that impressed him. With a population as booming as this one, someone was bound to notice his thneed. Taking his place at the open-air stage in the center of town, he set up his equipment, barely able to keep the smile from his face.

Even this early in the morning, a lot of people were milling about, and Once-Ler could practically feel their eyes starting to fall on him as he strummed through a few chords. Every day that he had been here in the past, the citizens had only been interested long enough to see who was playing the guitar before they went back to their daily business. Hopefully, today would be different. Clearing his throat, he looked up, tipping his hat a little farther back on his head. His unruly mop of dark hair shaded his blue eyes as they scanned the crowd, trying to gauge their responses. A few people had gathered around the semi-circular stage now, though most of them looked like they were laughing at him instead of actually listening to him play. He felt a slow flush of color rushing to his cheeks, but he continued to play regardless.

Once he finished his song, he gave a breathless, hopeful smile and looked up at his audience of potential customers. Instead of meeting the sound of polite applause, however, he heard whispers and saw pointed fingers. Razor-edged smiles and high-pitched laughter. He had grown used to this response by now, but that still didn't stop his shoulders from slumping ever so slightly, his cheeriness slowly deflating. He swallowed heavily, deciding that since he went through all this trouble, he might as well try to talk to them.

"Uh...hi, everyone," he began, chuckling a little and giving the crowd a short wave. They said nothing, only blinked and stared blankly back at him. Taking this as a sign to just continue talking, he said, "That song you heard just now was, um, my brand-new song. It's a jingle for my invention. The thneed!" At this, he lifted up the pink fabric, holding it out for display. "You see, the thneed would be perfect for anyone because it can do...well, anything you want it to!" He had hoped to gain their interest during this sentence, but the grumbles of disinterest and boredom made him trail off at the end of his sentence.

Gradually, the crowd dissipated, leaving Once-Ler still standing on the stage. He stared silently for a moment at where the audience had been just a few moments earlier. He bit his lower lip, trying to hold back the bitter disappointment squeezing at his heart. _Well_, he told himself, _at least they weren't as rude as they were yesterday. I won't have to clean tomatoes out of my hair when I get home._Maybe their change in attitude meant something. Maybe they were at least considering buying a thneed. At least as a last-minute, easily-exchangable birthday present?

Sighing, he took off his hat, placing it on the ground next to his equipment. He continued to lightly play different tunes on the guitar, hoping that someone might notice him after a while. Most of the people just walked on by, too busy to be bothered by a relatively unknown guitarist trying to sell a pink sweater. He was not too upset because of this; in fact, this was much kinder reception than he normally received. Still, he had thought that today, people would actually give him a chance. He frowned a little, wondering if perhaps he just wasn't giving it enough time. After all, success didn't suddenly boom into existence.

_Just have a little patience_, he coached himself mentally. _You'll be fine._

* * *

It was just nearing sunset when Once-Ler finally decided to just give up and go home. He had been periodically advertising throughout the day, taking breaks to eat lunch, go to the bathroom, and sometimes to avoid the irritated glares of the passers-by. He had packed up all his belongings and was loading the wagon when he got the strange feeling that something was missing. He raised his eyebrows questioningly, wondering for a moment if he was just second-guessing himself. He checked the wagon a second time, made certain that everything was there, and shrugged his shoulders.

Just as he was about to hop into the wagon, however, a voice caught his attention. "Hey!" The voice was feminine, soft, but carried a note of strength in it, as well.

Once-Ler turned, coming face-to-face with a young woman with outrageously curly brown hair rushing towards him. She wore a bright yellow sundress, and when she got close enough to him, he noticed that she was about a foot shorter than him. Round glasses were perched on her small nose, and her eyes were narrowed slightly. In her hands was a gray fedora, a little rumpled but otherwise unharmed. He gasped in surprise, reaching up to pat his head and realizing that he had left his hat back at the stage.

"Is this your hat? I thought I saw you wearing it earlier," she said, all but shoving the hat towards him.

Once-Ler took his hat, placing it atop his head in one swift movement. "Uh, thanks," he told her, nodding and offering a small, grateful smile. _Nice to know someone was paying attention_, he wanted to say, but held his tongue.

"I hope they didn't hurt your feelings too much, acting like that," she told him, though there was a smirk of amusement stretching across her face. She looked as if she were fighting back a smile.

"What, me? Nah. It's fine. I mean, I'm fine." He crossed his arms, giving her a quick once-over before adding, "And what, may I ask, do you think is so funny?"

The girl giggled lightly, covering her mouth with her hand and looking up at him through her lashes. As if she were embarrassed to be caught laughing at him. "O-oh, it's nothing," she said, her voice trembling slightly with laughter. "It's just...I think you'd have a lot more luck with them if you worked on your songs a little more."

"My songs?" he repeated, unable to hide that the comment had ruffled him a little. He had worked hard on that new jingle, after all. "What's so bad about the songs I play?"

She shook her head slightly, her curls bouncing, and she gave another light chuckle. "Th-they're just, well...a little cheesy! They're so silly, no one can take you seriously!"

Once-Ler considered this for a moment, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. She wasn't really intent on offending him, he could tell by the way she held herself. Still, she was telling the truth, and somehow, he knew it. Eventually, the frown on his face was replaced by a wide smirk, blue eyes dancing with amusement.

"Alright, then," he said after a short pause. He knew it was getting late and he needed to get home, but he couldn't resist. "What's your name?"

She hesitated for a minute, then nodded and said, "It's Norma."

"Okay, Norma," he began again, unable to keep the genuine intrigue from his voice. "I'll be coming back here every day for a while. Until sales start picking up. Give me a week to come up with a new jingle. And if you don't like the new one, then...I will stop coming here. I'll go back home. But, if it ends up being really good...then...you buy a thneed, and you advertise to your whole family. Do we have a deal?"

There was a moment's consideration, and then: "...Okay. Fine. It's a deal. I'll be waiting, er...I didn't catch your name."

"Once-Ler," he told her with a nod.

The two shook hands, both unable to keep giddy little grins from tugging at their lips. This hadn't exactly been what he had pictured when he had thought about selling his thneed to the public, but he was willing to start anywhere. And this girl seemed nice enough.

"I hope you're ready to buy a thneed, Norma," he told her, playfully competitive. "Believe me, it'll be the best investment you've ever made."

She folded her arms across her chest, smirking gently as she replied, just as jokingly, "We'll see about that. I'll give you a fair warning; I'm not easy to impress."

He leaned down a little so that the two of them were at eye level. Tipping his hat forward slightly on his head, he smiled and said, "Well, it's a good thing I like a challenge."

And, without another word between them, the two parted ways. The entire way home, Once-Ler was trying to fight the smile growing on his face.


	2. Chapter Two: Songwriting With Barbaloots

As Norma strode off in the opposite direction, she bit down on her lower lip, trying not to smile. _What a goof,_ she thought to herself, giggling a bit. _I wonder I should actually take him seriously. Probably not._Still, she felt intrigued by his offer. He seemed very nice, and meeting up with him in town every day would give her an excuse to slip away from her mother for a little while. She pushed her glasses up a little farther on the bridge of her nose, stealing a glance over her shoulder for a moment. Once-Ler had already taken off, but she thought she could spot the silhouette of a wagon in the distance. She felt oddly lighthearted, an extra spring in her step as she made her way back to the entrance of a clothing store where her mother stood window-shopping.

Louise Harlow. A woman who, despite her age, still carried with her all the regal grace of a queen. Norma had inherited her short stature and wild curls from her father, and sometimes wished that she could have her mother's silky red hair. Today, Mrs. Harlow wore her hair in a stylish updo, a black headband pushing back her bangs. She wore a simple black-and-white frock, but still pulled it off nicely. Norma's mother always dressed impeccably, and she knew when she saw her daughter walking around town in an old, worn-out sundress and ratty sweater, she would have a heart attack. Louise and Norma were fairly close, but this was one of the subjects that they just didn't see eye-to-eye on.

The other subject of disagreement was men. Mrs. Harlow was always hard at work trying to set her daughter up with the young men in town. Norma knew that her mother was only doing so because she cared, but sometimes, she felt like she was being smothered. She was nineteen years old, after all; she was a legal adult, and could certainly get herself a date if she wanted one. She had to give her mother credit, though; she always did manage to pick charming, sensible men for those blind dates. It wasn't that she wasn't interested in any of the men...most of them weren't interested in _her_.

Strangely, this reception didn't lower Norma's self-confidence. Instead, she liked to think of herself as a girl who was just on a different sort of wavelength from everyone else. She knew that she wasn't terribly attractive, and probably wasn't the most interesting person around, but she was perfectly content with herself. That was all that mattered, anyway. What did it matter what any of those men thought of her?

"Oh, Norma, there you are!"

Her mother's high-pitched voice pulled her out of her thoughts. She now stood a few feet away from the redhead woman, who was waving her over to where she stood at the window. Norma tilted her head to the side slightly, shrugged her shoulders, and obediently trailed after her mom. She peered through the window, immediately knowing what her mother had been so fixated on. It was a beautiful lavender evening gown, made of a shiny, silken fabric, draped with delicate lace trimmings. Something that Louise Harlow would look beautiful in. The red-haired woman was practically glued to the glass windowpane, her eyes hungrily taking in every detail of the dress.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she cooed, clutching Norma's arm. "Oh, I have half a mind to just waltz in there and buy it, but...I don't know. I already have so many lavender dresses."

"It _is_beautiful," Norma conceded. "But where would you wear it? We haven't thrown one of your dinner parties in years. It seems like a waste of money to me, Mother."

Louise pursed her lips, considering this for a moment. Tucking a strand of crimson hair behind her ear, she nodded shortly. "You're right," she agreed. Smirking a little, she turned to her and added lightly, "Besides, you know what a penny pincher your dad is. He'd never forgive me." Now that she had taken the moment to actually get a good look at her daughter's appearance, she gasped, her mouth open in an aghast 'O'.

"I knew you'd notice eventually," Norma said through her teeth, looking more sheepish than she ought as she brushed her hair with her fingers, trying to make it more presentable.

"Oh, Norma," sighed Mrs. Harlow, folding her arms across her chest and clicking her tongue. "You have so many beautiful dresses in that closet of yours; I just don't understand why you always choose to wear these old things."

Norma sighed and lifted her shoulders in a light shrug. "Because they're comfortable and they're clean," she explained, wishing that she could elaborate, but automatically knowing that her words would fall on deaf ears. "And besides, I hardly think that anyone here is paying attention to my fashion sense."

Louise shook her head, but said nothing else about the matter. Instead, she changed the subject, thankfully. "Where have you been all day?" she asked. "I haven't seen you in town since this morning."

"Oh," she responded. "I've just been at the library, mostly. A boring day, really."

And she was telling the truth, though she wished she wasn't. The town's library was so small, she had already read through most of the books available. In fact, the only reason she really went over there anymore was because of the interesting people she got the chance to talk to. Aging spinsters who found their comfort in the written word rather than the real world. They always had the strangest stories to tell, some of them even more entertaining than the books that the library provided.

Norma's mother chuckled. "You and your books," she said, good-naturedly rolling her eyes. "Well," she added, consulting her wristwatch, "it's getting late. We'd best be off. You ready?"

"I guess so," Norma responded, tugging at the ends of her sweater sleeves absently. She stole another quick glance over her shoulder, though she wasn't entirely sure what she expected to see. Facing forward again, she hurried along after her mother, ready to return home. She had to scurry to match the older woman's brisk pace.

They lived close to the center of town, so it was really quite easy for them to just walk home whenever they went out. And the weather was nice today, the sky a clear, cloudless blue streaked with pink and gold as the sun started to set. The hustle and bustle that plagued the town during the day was now slowly dying down to a dull trickle. Her mother strode with purpose, but Norma wanted to walk a little slower, just to sightsee. She had lived here her entire life, but she could never get enough of her hometown's natural beauty.

When they arrived at their house, a quaint, two-story brick structure in one of the town's oldest neighborhoods, Norma was more than ready to get inside. Her feet ached from spending most of the day walking around. Then again, her mind wasn't entirely ready to settle down for the day; she couldn't decide what to do, or how to go about doing it. Fiddling with a button midway down her sweater, she walked in through the front door, instantly greeted by the warmth of a roaring fireplace. The orange-yellow flames crackled inside the hearth, and for a moment Norma wondered why they had it so warm in the house. Today's temperatures had been comfortable, after all.

Then her eyes fell onto the lean, tall figure slouched in one of the sofas, and she had her answer. Her younger sister, thirteen-year-old Jean, was incredibly cold-natured, always somehow chilly despite the weather. She could be in the middle of a tropical island and still claim she was freezing. With her thin, willowy frame and carrot-red hair, she had taken very much after Louise. Norma suspected that when her younger sister really grew into a young woman, she would look more like Mrs. Harlow than ever. At the moment, she was flipping through a magazine, having not even noticed when her mother and sister walked into the room.

"Jean, we're back," said Norma, sinking into another couch with a contented sigh. Her ankles still throbbed from where her shoes had dug into her skin.

"Oh. Hi," she greeted, not looking up from her magazine. "So, Mom, did you find what you were looking for?"

Her mother replied, "Well, I ended up just settling with a pair of nice shoes that I found. I decided not to get the dress."

"Oh, but why?" cried Jean, paper rattling as she shoved the magazine article aside and looked up at the older woman. "I thought you had your heart set on getting that dress."

"You know, in the end, both Norma and I decided that it was just so wasteful."

Jean's gaze swiveled over to her older sister now, her eyes narrowed a little. She looked as if she had just noticed Norma's presence in the room. "If anyone needs a new dress, it's Norma," she quipped, wrinkling her nose.

"So I've heard," Norma responded under her breath, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

Already having lost interest in her older sister, Jean turned back to their mother. "well, then, Mom. Maybe you should take _me_shopping with you next time. I know that I would be able to tell you all kinds of things about..."

Norma zoned out then, knowing that Louise would give her undivided attention to improving her wardrobe. Even if it meant listening to a thirteen-year-old girl. She stared out of a nearby window, allowing herself to daydream for a little while. She thought about Once-Ler, and if he would actually take their offer seriously. They had been playful and smiling while talking to each other, but she did wonder if she would see him again. He _did_ say that he would be in town for the rest of the week...maybe she would get the chance to talk with him again. There weren't a lot of people like him in town. He was...unique. Interesting. Just like those people in the library. And, for whatever reason, Norma thought she would like to hear what he had to say.

* * *

Once-Ler strummed tentatively on his guitar, trying out a new melody that had fallen into his head. Sometimes, it sounded great in his mind, but when he got around to actually composing it, the song didn't work at all.

This was one of these times. Unfortunately.

He sat outside of his home in the Truffula Valley, leaning against the side of his house and staring up at the ever-darkening sky. The sun was almost completely finished setting by now, stars winking to life one by one. The air was a little breezy, but otherwise comfortable. Once-Ler could hear crickets chirping, singing their songs and filling the night with their rhythmic melodies. Melvin ambled about quietly in the nearby field, the only signs of his presence the occasional whinny or snort. Brown barbaloots scuttled here and there, and once in a while they would stop and listen as Once-Ler played a few simple tunes. The smallest one, Pipsqueak, seemed to enjoy that the most.

As he finished playing the last few notes of a different melody, Pipsqueak, who had stood across from him, transfixed, listening to the last three songs, scurried over to him. Grinning widely, he plopped down beside Once-Ler, big brown eyes curious. Once-Ler smiled in return, glad to know that at least one person didn't think his music was bad. He patted the barbaloot lightly on the head, and it squealed happily. He had never really thought about it before, but even though it did get annoying having all these animals in his house sometimes, they actually were good company on most days. At least he knew he would never be very lonely.

"Hey," he greeted, surprised at how weary he sounded. He gave Pipsqueak a wave. "Where's the rest of your, uh...friends? I never really see you by yourself." He almost rolled his eyes at himself; since when did the barbaloots have the ability to talk?

Rather than give him an answer, the furry brown animal leaned forward and ran one of his paws across the guitar strings, his claws catching on a few of them and creating a high-pitched sort of whistling. Once-Ler cringed at the sound of his guitar strings whining in protest. Pipsqueak smiled, clapped his paws in delight, and reached forward to repeat this action. This time, the sound created was a series of low notes that sounded like grinding metal.

"What, did you turn into a music critic overnight, too?" he asked, smirking and laughing a little despite himself. Taking his guitar back from the barbaloot, he played a simple little melody, concentrating again on writing his song.

Now that he had found the root of the problem, he was determined to fix it. If that Norma girl was telling the truth - which he suspected she was, given that she, too, had seemed to be holding back laughter - then he had a long way to go. A week. Why hadn't he asked for just a little longer? Not that he seriously expected her to keep up their little bet, but still, any hope was better than none at all. And if he couldn't even impress one girl, then how could he ever hope to win an entire town over?

Well. He was sure to think of something. This was his biggest chance yet, and he definitely wasn't going to just pass it up. Whether she was serious or not, he had to try.

"Alright, Pipsqueak," sighed Once-Ler, repositioning himself to relieve the cramp in his back. Settling into place with his guitar, he glanced over at the barbaloot, nodded, and added, "Time to write a masterpiece."


	3. Chapter Three: Oh, It's On

Writing a masterpiece was much easier said than done.

Once-Ler had spent much of the night hard at work on his new song, regardless of the fact that he had a week to compose it. He wanted to get the task out of the way quickly and without much incident, so that he could concentrate on his thneeds, as well. It would be much easier to fix the problem, however, if he knew where to start. Pipsqueak obviously hadn't been much help as far as feedback, and all that Norma had told him was that the lyrics were cheesy. So he had focused mostly on mixing the words up a little, making them more interesting. He hoped that he was going about this the right way.

After Pipsqueak had eventually grown bored of hearing the same few chords on the guitar over and over again, he had left to find his other friends. It was then that Once-Ler had finally allowed himself to get some rest, having not realized up until then just how late it had gotten. He had promised himself that he would work more on the song tomorrow, when he was feeling a little better. And so, after treating himself to a quick breakfast and going through his usual morning routine, he had gathered his belongings and headed outside. He had spent a good part of his morning on his songwriting, and then at around lunchtime, decided to at last head into town again.

He didn't particularly understand why he kept going back there, day after day. Perhaps he was just hoping that they might one day suddenly realize that his invention really was revolutionary. From the way they had treated him in his past visits, it didn't look like he would be getting to that point anytime soon. But what did it hurt to hope? He refused to head back home empty-handed; that would only be proving his family right. And he certainly didn't need his mother "I-told-you-so"-ing over his shoulder for the rest of his life.

The sun was blazing in the sky when he arrived in town that afternoon. The streets were filled with people taking advantage of the good weather, striding briskly downtown wearing large sunglasses and bright, sun-catching outfits. Once-Ler scanned the crowd carefully; these were all his potential customers. He had to find a way to reach them somehow. Despite his doubts, a hopeful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His heart swelled with enthusiasm as he made his way for the stage that now almost felt like a second home to him.

He threw himself into his song with a newfound confidence. By now, most of the people in town knew him as the bum with the guitar, so none of them so much as looked up when he began playing. They were all most likely very familiar with the tune at this point, possibly well enough to even sing along with him. Maybe they would stop and buy a thneed, if only to get him to stop singing the song. Occasionally, someone would look up at him and roll their eyes before continuing on their way. He would try to grab their attention for a moment to talk about the thneed, but they would keep walking before he could even finish his sentence.

Once-Ler had been playing for a while when he spotted her. On the right-hand side of the stage, at the very edge, Norma was standing and quietly observing. Her eyes widened behind her glasses; she looked embarrassed to be caught looking. He gave her a light wave, and she returned the gesture with a small smile before he continued playing his music. Once he finished the song, he told the audience that he would be taking a short break - though somehow, he doubted they cared either way. Turning on his heel, he walked across the stage to where Norma was standing, arms across her chest.

"Well, if it isn't the star songwriter himself," she said as he approached her, a smile playing across her lips. "It sounds like you haven't made much progress. You're still using that same old song from before."

He chuckled, sitting down on the stage. "Hey, give me a break. It hasn't even been a full day yet. Genius takes time, you know."

For a moment, she looked as though she might laugh, but thought better of it. Instead, she grinned and nodded. "Alright, then. I stand corrected." She paused, then said, "I actually look forward to hearing it."

"Don't you worry, Norma," he insisted. "When the end of the week rolls around, I'm going to play you a song that'll make all other music sound like...metal in a scrapyard."

This time, she actually did giggle, covering her mouth with her hand. "Well, if it's anything like the one you just played, then maybe I'll at least get a laugh out of it."

Once-Ler, feigning injury, placed his palm over his heart. "Ouch," he muttered. "You know, why don't you try writing a song if you think it's so easy?"

"O-oh, I don't...I mean, what I'm trying to say is..." Norma smiled, blushing a little, and was silent for a few seconds. After a moment passed, she sighed, nodded shortly, and began again. "I'm sorry," she said, and it seemed sincere. "You're right. With the hard time that these people are giving you, I shouldn't..." her voice trailed off at the end of the sentence.

He shrugged lightly, adjusting his fedora. "Trust me, compared to the others, you're as sweet as gingerbread. At least you bothered to apologize." He stared out at the thriving crowd of people, squinting his eyes against the sun, and sighed. Turning back to her, he grinned and added, "Don't worry. You'll be singing a different tune when you hear what I've written for you."

Now that the good humor between them had been recovered, Norma laughed gently. "If you say so." There was a pause; the dark-haired girl consulted her watch, then glanced back up at him. "Well, I should be going." She gave him a wave. "I'll see you at the end of the week, Sondheim."

Once-Ler laughed at this, giving her a gentle nudge. "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you then."

He shook his head as Norma strode off in the opposite direction. His biggest chance at selling a thneed so far, and she was harder to please than anyone in this town - doubly so. As much as he enjoyed a good challenge, would it really have been too much for him to ask for a little good luck? He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. This was definitely a gamble. He had so much at stake; the respect of his family, his dreams, his future. This would have to be a risk he was willing to take.

* * *

Norma sighed irritably as she fought her way through the throng of townspeople crowding the streets. Jean had been standing outside of a restaurant a moment earlier, and now she had wandered off somewhere. Her younger sister was thirteen years old, obviously old enough to take care of herself, but had a habit of getting herself into trouble. As the older sister, it often fell upon Norma's shoulders to make sure that it never happened. But what could she do when Jean kept disappearing into thin air?

It was like taking care of a toddler, rather than a teenager.

Folding her arms impatiently across her chest, she made her way down the sidewalk, glancing around. She had given up calling her sister's name, knowing that her voice would only get lost in the mingled voices, coupled with the sound of Once-Ler's guitar as he performed onstage. After their conversation mere seconds ago, he seemed to be playing with a renewed energy and determination.

She smiled to herself; why he was so fixated on proving himself was beyond her. And yet, he was clearly not going to give up selling...well, whatever it was he was trying to sell. A thneed, she thought. She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings by giving him such a hard time about his music; she supposed she just needed to think before she said whatever popped into her mind. He did seem very nice, just a little eccentric. He didn't particularly fit in with the rest of the town scene. All of the people walking down the streets every day had this distinctly jaded attitude; even Norma caught herself with it sometimes. But he was different from that. She couldn't explain exactly how she knew; she had only met him yesterday, after all. But she had a feeling.

"Boo!"

Norma squealed as two hands landed on her shoulders, steering her around. She gasped for breath, placing a hand over her heart when she realized that it was Jean, looking particularly cheerful in a brand-new pair of sunglasses. The younger girl giggled delightedly, knowing that her plan to scare her sibling had been a complete success.

"Jean!" Norma gasped, swatting the redhead lightly on the arm. "You scared me half to death. What was that for?"

"I knew I would scare you," she laughed. "Oh, you should have seen your face!" She paused, and when she had fully regained her composure, she added, "Sorry, sorry. That was mean."

"Humph. It's okay. You didn't even scare me that badly." Before her sister could point out that her hands were shaking, Norma tacked on quickly, "And anyway, where did you go off to? I've been looking everywhere for you."

"I had some allowance money burning a hole in my pocket, and I wasn't about to just stand around waiting for you while you gawked at that guy onstage. So, I went and bought these." She used her index finger to indicate the ostentatious scarlet eyewear. "They were on sale, and I had just enough. Looks like I'll need them today, too, with the weather being like this."

Norma had to agree on that note. All day, the temperatures had been positively sweltering. The air was hot and dry, unlike yesterday, when at least a slight breeze had been blowing. The sky was a crisp blue, the sun shining down relentlessly on the square. Earlier that morning, the sky had been slate-gray, covered with rain clouds. In preparation for the precipitation, Norma had dressed in a long-sleeved dress and sweater. Of course, by the time they had spent about an hour in town, the sky had cleared up, making her seriously regret her decision. She had since shed her sweater, and was now carrying it in the crook of her arm. But she couldn't do much with her dress other than roll up the sleeves to her elbows. And she had already done that hours ago.

"Norma?" Jean asked as the two of them headed down the street. Immediately, the brunette tensed; she knew that tone of voice. Her sister only talked to her in that voice when she wanted juicy details.

Trying her best to keep a poker face, Norma cleared her throat and tossed a lock of hair out of her eyes. "Y-yes, Jean?"

"Who _was_ that guy, anyway? The one playing guitar and carrying around that hideous pink sweater." Jean cast her sister a sly look overtop of her sunglasses. "And don't try to tell me you don't know him, because I _saw_you talking to him!"

"O-oh, him?" Norma swallowed past the lump in her throat, feeling a flush of color rush to her face. She couldn't imagine why; he was still pretty much a stranger to her, wasn't he? All they had ever talked about when they were together was his music. Other than his name, that was all she knew about him. "I think he's some kind of inventor. He's been here every day for the past...two weeks, selling that thing. Or trying to, at least. I can't believe you haven't noticed him until now."

Jean looked back over her shoulder, nudging her sister and grinning suggestively. "He's awfully tall, isn't he? Can you imagine being held in those arms?"

"_Jean_!" gasped Norma, aghast at the younger girl's assumptions. Giving the redhead a slight shove, she added, "For your information, I've only spoken to him twice. And you don't know him at all, either. I think fantasizing about him would be a little premature at this point!"

Jean stuck out her lower lip in a playful pout. "You're no fun, Norma. Don't you ever look at a stranger and think, 'Oh, he's cute'?" Without waiting for an answer, she pressed on. "Nothing has to come of it. You'll probably never see him again, anyway." Jean shrugged, straightforward as ever.

Norma gave an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. "Yes. You're right. I'll never see him again." Thankfully, Norma had always been good at lying. She felt guilty when she fibbed to her parents, but her younger sister would have a field day if she ever knew that Norma was meeting Once-Ler at the end of the week. There was no remorse at all for this situation.

"Finally, you see things my way. I was beginning to think it'd never happen."

Norma sighed. She hated to allow Jean to think that she had gotten victory over her older sister, but there was nothing else she could do. She wanted to avoid at all costs all the questions that surely would be fired her way if she told the truth. And, anyway, Jean was sure to blow things completely out of proportion. She was meeting him in town at the end of the week for a purely business exchange. The only reason he was being so polite to her now was because he wanted her to buy his invention, after all.

Biting her lower lip in consideration, Norma decided that she just would not worry about what her sister had said. She was a thirteen-year-old girl who had never had a boyfriend, and yet claimed to know everything about love. Why would anyone take her words seriously, unless they were younger than Jean? In fact, now that she thought about it, Norma almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

_Oh, it's on, Once-Ler_, Norma thought, a smirk spreading across her face despite herself. _Come the end of the week, I'll be ready for you. That's a promise._


	4. Chapter Four: A Real Challenge

Despite the poor reception he had received today, Once-Ler found himself in an undeniably giddy mood as he strode back to his wagon. He was whistling lightheartedly as he packed up all his belongings, jumping upwards and taking the reins. He couldn't really explain why he was feeling this way; after all, when he thought about it, his day in town had been just as awful and unsuccessful as always. For whatever reason, though, he was feeling decidedly confident that, soon enough, things would get better.

After all, he had a chance now. Now that he had talked to Norma earlier today, he knew for sure that she took him seriously. Or at least was polite enough to pretend so, anyway. As long as he had her attention, he would have a potential customer. And if he managed to sell _her _a thneed, then maybe everyone else would finally just...wake up. If he could just manage to start a chain reaction among the townspeople, then he was sure that things would get better for him. Once-Ler felt a great sense of relief now that he knew for certain that he at least still had a fighting chance.

Even so, he really wasn't all that certain where he stood with Norma. Of course, he supposed he could consider her a friend, though he wouldn't go so far as to knit her a sweater or buy her a Christmas present. She was also a little more than just a mere acquaintance, even though the only reason they ever talked was to further his business. She seemed genuinely friendly towards him, though admittedly very direct straightforward. For a flicker of an instant, he wondered if he would ever see her again, once this songwriting business was gone. At this point, he couldn't decide for sure if he would want to or not. He supposed it depended on her, and it really wasn't important to think about, anyway.

What was important, drastically so, was him finally making something of himself. He was through with these people treating him like a complete nobody. Sure, they ignored him now, but one of these days, he would make them see. Then, all of them would regret all the things that they had said. Maybe even Norma would take back all the sarcastic remarks about his music. Not that they had particularly offended him, but it would be gratifying, regardless.

More than anything, though, he refused to go home empty-handed. He knew that his entire family was probably waiting for him at home with bated breath, anticipating the moment when he rode into the driveway without having made a single dollar. His mother loved him sure, but she loved being right even more. Chet and Brett, despite being his brothers, would be thrilled, no doubt. Not so much because of their own conscious choice to do so, but more because of the fact that whatever their mother said or did, they immediately mirrored. He wasn't too concerned with his aunt and uncle, who seemed indifferent towards him no matter what he did. He assumed that they would, like his brothers, merely follow along with whatever Mom had to say about him.

But, before he could change the world, he needed to work on that song. That _song_. He had thought about it practically all day, hardly able to concentrate even on selling his thneeds. He had used his old music today while performing, but he had been struck with inspiration just a short while ago, and was itching to try the melody and lyrics that he had in mind. He could almost see the ideas forming in his mind, swirling and circling around like a nest of hornets, wild and quick, erratic. The only problem would be getting all those spectacular ideas to condense into one song, and to do it effectively.

As Melvin led the way home, Once-Ler sighed contentedly, taking a deep breath of the crisp, fresh air. He had left town a little earlier than usual today, but already the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, painting the sky different shades of orange, gold, and pink. Pearl gray clouds ghosted along the edges of the sky. Even though this place was not the Truffula Valley itself, the beauty of even the road that led back to it was breathtaking in itself. The road that he had taken to get there had been nothing but a barren landscape of dirt and desert heat; he supposed that after having to go through that, anything would look picturesque. Still, after a long day of working and getting ignored, he was more than ready to retreat into the thriving forest that he now called his home.

The entire way back, Once-Ler strummed on his guitar, trying to work through the different ideas he had floating around in his head. He was still trying to decide which one he liked the best; it was a difficult choice, considering how hard he had worked to think up all of them. In the end, he supposed it all boiled down to which one flowed the best with the lyrics, and which one seemed to help the most in conveying his point. He wanted to focus more on the lyrics than the tune, since that was what Norma had said the problem was. But before he could do any of that, he needed to start from scratch. Building upon an old idea just seemed like beating a dead horse. Despite all the work and energy it would take, Once-Ler truly thought that it would pay off in the end to just create a new piece entirely.

When he finally made it home, the sun was nearly completely finished setting. He quickly tied Melvin up to his usual wooden post, unloaded his belongings from the wagon and brought them inside, and draped his thneed over a nearby chair just inside the doorway to his cottage. Gathering his guitar, a notebook, and pencil, he promptly left the house and, in the fast-approaching twilight, started walking towards the river. Honestly, he didn't know why that particular place gave him inspiration, but whenever he needed to think up some new ideas, he headed down to the riverbank for a while. It certainly helped him, and seeing as he needed all the help he could get with this song, he wasn't about to question it.

A smile tugged at Once-Ler's lips as he reached the edge of the river. The air was unmistakably briny, a light breeze coming off the water. The current was quick, the water sloshing slightly over the grassy banks as it rushed towards the waterfall waiting at the river's end. Once-Ler shuddered inwardly as he remembered that horrible night when he had almost fallen over the edge of that very same waterfall. Why, if it weren't for the Lorax and the barbaloots - never mind that it was their fault in the first place - he certainly wouldn't be alive today.

Taking a seat underneath a nearby pink Truffula tree, he took out his notebook and placed it on the ground beside him, waiting patiently for inspiration to strike him. He furrowed his brow for a moment, remembering those ideas that he had gotten earlier today. Picking up his pencil, he scrawled down a few of the lyrics that sounded the best to him, just to brainstorm more than anything. He played through his favorite melody a few times, picking out the lyrics that seemed to fit well with the tune. After a few minutes of this process, the dark-haired musician began grinning. He could hardly believe it, but this was actually working! Finally, he had managed to break through this case of writer's block.

"It's about time," he muttered to himself, unable to keep a self-satisfied smile from stretching across his face.

A newfound confidence now pushing him forward, he proceeded to write the rest of his jingle. _Look out, Norma_, he thought playfully to himself, his mood now even more lifted than before. _Before you know it, this little 'competition' will be settled. Once and for all._Hardly able to help himself, he chuckled softly, his pencil dancing quickly across the page as more thoughts came to mind. Finally, things seemed to be working out in his favor.

For now, at least.

* * *

The rest of the week passed by quietly, without much incident. Every morning, Once-Ler would awaken to find his house ambushed by barbaloots, Swammie Swans, and of course, the Lorax. After several weeks of this happening, though, it was almost starting to feel normal. Admittedly, they had gotten a little less chaotic once he had sat them all down and explained to them how things in his house were supposed to work, but it undeniably kept him on his toes. Despite this, though, things in the Truffula Valley remained remarkably low-key.

As he had expected, his thneed sales hadn't been doing much better, either. He had decided to save his new song for when he met Norma, and so for the rest of the week, he had been recycling old jingles. He was feeling fairly confident about his newest composition, and was sure that Norma would like it, as well. He had spent the rest of the week practically slaving over it, to the point that even the Lorax, who was normally indifferent to Once-Ler's guitar-playing, told him to keep it down before he decided to experiment just how long it would take to snap a musical instrument in half. Even Pipsqueak had eventually grown tired of the constant songwriting, and had chosen to use his free time by hunting for berries with the rest of the brown barbaloots.

When the last day of the week finally rolled around, Once-Ler was more than ready. All throughout the day, he kept his eyes open for any sign of Norma, though his efforts were in vain. She did not show up as the day went by, and though he kept himself occupied by performing different songs and trying to advertise to the public, he was admittedly worried on the inside. What if she had just been playing him for a fool this entire time, and really hadn't been serious at all? Rather than allow himself to get so strung-out over it, he decided to just be patient, and if at the end of the day, she still hadn't shown up, then he would play the song, anyway. All in all, it wouldn't be an entire loss.

Today, Once-Ler stayed in town for a while longer than usual. He hated being this desperate for someone to buy his invention, but he was willing to start anywhere. He sat on the stage, watching the sunset, ignoring it when Melvin would whinny and snort with disapproval. The poor mule had had a long day of dodging tomatoes, and was more than ready to head home for the evening. Out of mere boredom, he strummed through the song once on his guitar. He had played through it so many times already that he knew it well enough to play it blindfolded. It was more out of habit than anything else that he played it now, just waiting.

And finally, she showed up. He lifted his gaze from his worn-out shoes as the sound of clicking heels on the pavement approached him. Not moving from his place on the stage, he looked up at Norma and gave her a friendly wave and smile. The edges of her mouth twitched upwards in a small grin, as well, and she moved to sit beside him on the stage. Brushing a lock of frizzy brown hair out of her eyes, she regarded him with a curious, excited expression.

"Hi," she said, giving him a tiny wave. With a glance at his guitar, she added, "So? What masterpiece do you have written for me, then? Remember, you promised me a real winner."

He chuckled, nodding his head and waving his right hand carelessly in the air. "Yeah, yeah. Look, don't worry. You're gonna love it. I promise." Propping his guitar into the proper playing position, he strummed a brief chord. "Ready?"

"Whenever you are," she agreed with a nod. Placing her hands in her lap, she watched intently, waiting for him to play for her.

Once-Ler was never really one to get stage fright. Performing in front of the public masses was just something that he always had done, even back home. He had played his guitar for the surrounding neighbors on several occasions, and even in a place this heavily populated, it didn't bother him. He had always enjoyed sharing his music with other people, regardless of their opinions about him. In fact, performing was one of the few times he really _didn't_care about what people thought of him. Yet now that he was face-to-face with his first real chance at success, trying his best to impress someone who clearly saw him as just another bum off the streets, he felt differently. Intimidated, almost. How ridiculous it was to feel nervous around such a mousy-looking girl.

He played through his song as best as he possibly could. The entire time, Norma sat quietly and listened politely, even going as far as to tap her feet along to the beat at some points. When he finally strummed the ending chords to the song, he was satisfied with the song as a whole. He gave a wide grin at the look in Norma's eyes, hoping beyond hope that she would like it. She giggled lightly as he laid his guitar to the side, her nose wrinkling gently.

"Well?" he asked. "What did you think?"

She pursed her lips, fighting a smile. Tossing her hair out of her face with a sigh, she finally said, "I don't know. I'm just not feeling it."

His shoulders slumped, his heart sinking so low, it felt like it belonged in the pit of his stomach. "Wh-what?" he stuttered, feeling as if he had been punched in the gut. He winced at the disappointment coloring his voice, wishing he could do a better job of disguising when his feelings had been hurt.

Placing her hand on his shoulder lightly, she continued, "If it's any consolation, I liked it better than the other one."

He sighed heavily, shaking his head and staring blankly ahead of him. "Nah. I guess people just really aren't into the kind of music I'm playing." Casting a regretful glance over at the thneed draped across Melvin's neck, he muttered, "Besides, the thneed's just ahead of its time, anyway."

There followed what felt like an eternity of awkward silence. He cleared his throat, eventually standing up from the stage and crossing over to where his wagon was parked. Despite not wanting to leave, he had to keep his word. It had been a foolish bet to make in the first place, anyway. He felt so incredibly stupid for ever believing that he even had a chance selling his invention in the first place! And now he was never going to hear the end of it from the rest of his family. Wonderful.

As he walked over to the wagon, however, Norma's voice stopped him. "Now, wait just a minute, mister!"

He looked over his shoulder, arching his eyebrows curiously. She had also moved from her position on the stage and was standing a few feet behind him. Her eyes were wide behind her glasses, almost hesitant. She stood almost frozen in place, as if she had had in mind what she wanted to say, and had now lost it. He waited silently for her to continue speaking.

Placing her hands on her hips, she pressed on, "What do you think you're doing?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, he turned around to face her completely. Using his thumb to indicate the wagon, he said, "Uh, going home, I guess. That was the deal, after all."

"Oh," she replied, almost laughing as she shook her head. "Oh, no you're not."

Tilting his head to the side slightly, he gave an awkward chuckle. "Excuse me?"

"I said that I liked your song better, didn't I?" As she continued talking, she strode closer to him, her eyes urging and as wide as saucers. "You can't just give up and go home. If you really want this, then...then you're gonna have to work for it, right?"

"Um...yes?" The way he spoke, it sounded more like a question than a definite answer. Narrowing his eyes inquisitively, he added, "I'm sorry. I'm a little confused. Why are you saying all this?"

Norma sighed impatiently, licking her lips as she searched for an answer. She shrugged her shoulders lightly, folding her arms across her chest. Her brow furrowed as she thought on it for a moment. "W-well, I...I don't know, I guess...I suppose I just want to help you. I mean, it's obvious that you take this seriously. I just hate to see you give up so easily."

"Thanks, I think." Once-Ler scratched the back of his neck restlessly, unsure of what he wanted to say to her. Finally, he decided upon, "But there's just one more thing I don't really get. You hardly know me at all. The only times we've ever talked, it's been about my music. So why do you care either way what happens to me?"

Norma cocked her head to the side, considering this for a moment. She gave him a smirk of amusement, regarding him with dancing dark eyes as she said, "I think it's because...you're interesting to me." As she spoke, she smiled even wider, a gesture that lit up her entire face. "I think this town could use more interesting people."

"'Interesting', huh? So, that's what you call it," he responded with a chuckle. He paused, thinking this over for a minute. If she really did believe that he still had a chance, then he supposed that he could stay. It would certainly be a lot better than heading home and having to face failure. "Are you sure you're not just saying this because you're afraid you've hurt my feelings again?"

She giggled. Shaking her head, she replied, "No. Don't worry, I promise I'm being one hundred percent honest with you." Walking a little closer to him, interlacing her fingers, she added, "So, will you at least think about staying? I hope you'll consider."

Despite himself, Once-Ler cracked a smile. "Okay," he finally said, nodding shortly.

"I'm glad," said Norma, sounding genuinely relieved.

There was a slight pause between them, during which the dark-haired young man pushed his fedora back slightly on his forehead. He wondered if he would ever see her again after he went home this evening. She seemed like a very nice girl, someone who would be good to talk to on a bad day. Sure, he had plenty of friends in the Truffula Valley, but who could honestly expect him to get by on interactions with animals alone? He needed a friendship with someone more relatable.

"Say, um, Norma?" He folded his arms across his chest, ignoring another irritated snort from Melvin as he continued to speak. He knew he should be getting home, but he couldn't resist. "You know, the reason why you weren't impressed by my song today was because I was nervous."

Norma smirked, obviously not about to fall for this excuse. "Nervous?" she repeated, laughing a little, though not unkindly. "Please. You don't seem like the type to get stage fright. After all the terrible things some of these people have said to you, and yet you come back here every day to play? How could you possibly be nervous in front of me?"

Once-Ler shrugged, lacking a proper answer for this. Frankly, he was wondering that, himself. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "But I'm not lying to you here. Just hear me out. How about we meet again tomorrow, and I'll play my song for you again?"

"Haven't you had enough humble pie yet?" she asked playfully, a wide grin stretching across her face.

He laughed in response to this, saying, "Oh, we'll see about that. You didn't let me finish. See, this time, I want to play for you where _I _live. I'll be able to perform much better in a more comfortable environment." Alright, he might have bluffed a bit on that one, but anything for the sake of business.

Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and giggling again, she nodded. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say." She paused for just an instant. "Okay, then, Once-Ler. Why not? I'll humor you. You meet me here at the same time tomorrow, take me to...wherever it is you live, and you can play for me again. Just for kicks."

He blinked and remained silent for a second, surprised by this positive response. "Wow," he began, chuckling. "You agreed that quickly? Aren't you afraid that I could actually turn out to be some kind of...scary...hoodlum or something?"

"Hmm..." she narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to the side, appearing to have just now thought of this. Finally, she made her decision. "You know, I just don't see it. And even if you were, I think I could take you on by myself."

"Oh, okay, then," he laughed, stepping a little closer to her with a silly grin on his face. "Is that a challenge?"

Norma bit her lower lip lightly. "Nah," she said with a slight shake of her head. "I think we've had enough challenges between us, don't you think?" She smiled up at him, an inquisitive glint in her eyes. "I think it would be nice if...well, if we were friends the next time you played music for me."

He nodded in agreement. "I'd like that, too," he replied.

They fell into silence again. Once-Ler lifted his gaze to the sky, gasping to himself once he realized that the sun had nearly entirely finished setting by now. He glanced over to his wagon, where Melvin stood impatiently shaking his mane and whinnying. He glanced back towards Norma, who was still staring at him with that bright-eyed smile.

"Well," he told her with a sigh, "it's getting late. I should probably get going." Extending his arm out towards her, he added, "So. I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

Shaking his hand, Norma nodded. "You bet. I look forward to it."

"Me too."

When she released his hand, he gave her a small wave before heading back over to his wagon. He spent the entire ride home whistling and strumming his guitar, satisfied with the overall turnout of the evening. As he rode, though, he thought of something that just hadn't occurred to him when he had invited Norma to visit the Truffula Valley. The Guardian of the Forest wasn't likely to take kindly to any new intruders into his home. And of course, he would know immediately who had invited her. Which might or might not spell disaster. Because if the Lorax was known for anything, it certainly wasn't his kind, welcoming attitude towards others.

"Well," he said aloud, not really sure if he were addressing the mule or himself as he spoke. "This should definitely be interesting..."

He'd tell him later. Sure. This would all work out. There was no cause for worry.

Right?


	5. Chapter Five: What Friends Are For

It was nearly completely dark by time that Norma made it home. She had taken her time on the walk to her house, enjoying the pleasant weather. She had never really been scared to walk around this place by herself, even at night. Her family believed it was incredibly foolish of her to be so trusting in people, and perhaps they were right. But she just couldn't help but feel safe in a place that she had lived her entire life. The streets were well-lit at nighttime, and her house wasn't that far from town, anyway. It was such a short distance to walk, it seemed ridiculous and melodramatic to be afraid of the journey. She smirked a little as she remembered what Once-Ler had said earlier, about her being too careless when it came to her own safety. For just a fleeting instant, she wondered what he would think about her just ambling on home in the fast-approaching darkness.

When she finally walked through the front door of her house, she was greeted by the strong scent of flowers. She couldn't immediately name what kind they were, but when the door fell shut behind her and she walked further into the room, she saw Jean placing a bouquet into a glass vase. Sniffing tentatively, Norma wrinkled her nose at the overwhelmingly sweet aroma. The flowers were purple, blooming in the shapes of skinny stars; they looked to be hyacinths, though that kind of flower did not grow around their house. Jean spun around on her heel, placing the vase on a nearby table with one hand and giving her sister a wave with the other.

"There you are," she said, busying herself with fluffing the flowers until they laid at just the right angle. "What have you been up to? Normally you're home a lot earlier."

"Uhm..." Norma bit her lower lip, curling a strand of bushy hair around her index finger. "Well, I just took the long way home. I thought I could use the exercise."

Giving her a doubtful look, Jean folded her arms across her chest. "I may be the younger sister, but I'm definitely not stupid, Norma," she replied, smirking. "You might be able to pull one over on Mom, but not me."

"Why do you say that?" Norma asked, using her best poker face.

Jean snorted, rolling her eyes with amusement. "First of all, because I know those shoes kill your feet. You're barely able to make it home in them as it is. Come to think of it, I don't even know why you wear them at all, other than the fact that Mom hates those sneakers you normally wear." She paused, considering a moment before she said, "And second of all, I saw your face when you got home. I'd know that look anywhere, and it can only mean one thing!" She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively, earning herself a nudge in the arm from her older sister.

Leaning forward slightly and lowering her voice to a whisper, she responded quickly, "Listen, Jean. You are making a big deal out of nothing, I promise you. But if you can just keep quiet and promise not to blow everything out of proportion, then I'll tell you later."

Instead of giving her a plain 'yes' or 'no' answer, Jean snickered. "If it's not a big deal, then why are you being so secretive?"

"Jean!" Norma hissed, swatting the redhead lightly on the arm.

Giggling, the younger girl gently slapped Norma's hand away, shaking with mirth. "Okay, okay, fine. I'm sorry." Clearing her throat and growing a little more serious, she nodded and tacked on hurriedly, "Alright. I promise, I won't say anything." She gave her sister a conspiratorial wink. "I look forward to hearing all about it."

Norma fell silent, glancing around the room. Seeing the opportunity to change the subject, she gestured to the vase on the table and asked, "So, where did you get the flowers? They look nice."

This strategy proved effective, immediately switching Jean's attention. Her entire face brightened and she nodded enthusiastically. "Aren't they pretty? Mom and I picked them up at the florist today, just to add a little color." She gazed wonderingly at them, sighing wistfully. "I've always wanted to learn how to grow my own flowers. It's kind of a shame that I'm so bad at gardening, really."

"You're not that bad," Norma reassured her, though she wasn't entirely sure if they were true or not, mostly because she had never seen her sister working in any garden. In fact, until now, she had never really shown any interest in it at all. "You just need a little practice, I'd bet."

At this, Jean brightened considerably, looking over her shoulder at her sister. "Well, I'm glad you think so. I'm sure the thousands of daisies I've killed in the past would disagree with you, though."

Norma smirked, glancing around the room for a moment. After the brief pause between them, she cleared her throat and asked, "Where's Mom?"

"Uh, I think she's in the living room." She shrugged, sticking her lower lip out slightly. "Seriously, though, she's gonna wonder where you've been. You've kinda been wandering around for the past week. You haven't been around much."

Norma frowned, but realized that her sister was right. She hadn't really been spending a lot of time at home lately. Not that there was anything wrong with that, especially considering that she was a legal adult now, free to make her own choices. It was utterly pointless and ridiculous for her to want to keep secrets from her mother at this age, but for some reason, it was a conversation she really wanted to avoid. Even if there was nothing romantic whatsoever between herself and Once-Ler, her mother had the tendency to jump to conclusions. It wasn't out of stupidity - on the contrary, Mrs. Harlow was one of the most intelligent women that Norma knew. It was just out of the hope that she kept with her that, one day, her daughter might meet her Prince Charming.

Caught up in her thoughts, Norma snickered at this. Her mind had now conjured up the image of Once-Ler parading around town, dressed head to toe in a prince's uniform, riding that smelly donkey like a noble stallion. She bit her lower lip, trying to hold back laughter. Jean gave her a questioning look, waving her hand in front of her face slowly. The gesture brought Norma back from her reverie, thankfully chasing away that campy, over-the-top mental image of the dark-haired musician.

"Uh, hello? Norma? You just zoned out on me there," said Jean. Her younger sister chuckled awkwardly, and Norma shook her head and blinked, still trying to hold back giggles. Giving her a strange look, the redhead added with a laugh, "You're so weird."

Norma reached over, ruffling Jean's hair playfully. "I love you, too," she responded, purposefully making her voice higher-pitched, colored with false happiness.

When the younger girl wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes, Norma giggled, heading through the kitchen and into the adjacent room, the living area. Her mother was seated in a nearby leather couch, leafing through a newspaper with a bored expression on her face. In the light of the circular room, Norma noticed with a frown just how tired her mother looked. Louise worked hard to keep the more weary part of herself hidden, but as she raked her fingers through her hair and sighed to herself, there was a glint of age and exhaustion in her eyes. She had never really known her mother to be troubled about anything, but it was clear that tonight, for whatever reason, she was upset.

"Mother?" said Norma quietly as she entered the room. Clearing her throat slightly, she moved to sit beside the older woman on the sofa. Absently, she smoothed the creases out of her tweed skirt before adding, "What's wrong?"

Blinking in momentary surprise, Mrs. Harlow looked up from the newsprint, setting it down on the coffee table with a flourish. She studied her daughter's face for an instant, then gave her a tight smile. "Oh, no, honey. I'm just - " she broke off, covering her mouth as she yawned, " - really tired. I don't think I slept well enough last night."

"O-oh. Alright, then," said Norma, though she still felt somewhat suspicious towards the woman. She pursed her lips, staring for a moment, but as the silence lingered, she decided to just drop it. Perhaps she was just overreacting. Her mind tended to make things seem more dramatic than they actually were sometimes. She glanced down at her hands, clasped neatly in her lap, and then looked back up at Mrs. Harlow. "I saw the flowers you and Jean bought today," she began again. "They're lovely."

Louise's eyes brightened by just a fraction, but it made a considerable change to her overall appearance. Even with that little gesture, she seemed much livelier, in a matter of seconds. "Aren't they? I thought you'd like them." She paused for a second before saying, "I remembered what you said, just a few weeks ago. When you said this place needed more color. Even your dad liked them."

The corners of Norma's mouth perked up into a half-smile. "He did?"

"It surprised me, too, but he seemed to think they were pretty." Her mother cracked a smile, nodding her head slightly as she spoke.

Norma's father was what could be called the 'silent' type. Her mother often talked about how romantic he used to be when they were first dating, but nothing much seemed to really faze him anymore. With his short, stout frame, fuzzy brown hair, and thick-rimmed square glasses that made his eyes look too small, it was hard for Norma to picture him as a young man, wooing her mom. He was more introverted than anyone in the family, even Norma, and tended to prefer the company of a thick textbook over his own children and wife. Not that he didn't love his family; he was just an eccentric man.

A few beats of silence passed between them, and when the quiet persisted, the older woman went back to reading the newspaper. Norma felt a pang of sadness, wishing that there was some way she could have a closer relationship with her mother. They got along fairly well, but really, they knew next to nothing about each other, apart from each other's fashion senses. Mrs. Harlow always made such a valiant effort to reach out to her daughter, and Norma felt guilty for constantly pushing away all those attempts. Even if the dates with those men never worked out, even if she didn't care about spending hours on her hair, Norma figured she should at least be nicer about it.

Sighing, she tucked a lock of bushy hair behind her ear, trying to decide whether to say what was on her mind. Finally, she leaned forward slightly where she sat and said, "Mother, if you'd like...maybe tomorrow you and I can spend the entire day in town. Just a girl's day or something." She grinned at the look of excitement dawning on her mother's face. "I thought, well...we haven't been spending a lot of time together lately." She shrugged her shoulders lightly, biting her lower lip.

"Oh, Norma," her mother replied, looking decidedly jubilant, "of course I would. That sounds like a wonderful idea! We'll make a day of it. Shopping, hair, nails...the whole deal!" The redhead giggled, clutching her daughter's hands. "You know...even though you're an adult now, Norma...I can't help but miss you being my little girl." She chuckled softly, her voice gentle as she took one hand and brushed through Norma's hair. "I'm so glad you still want to spend the day with me, like we used to."

Norma reddened, seeing the emotion clearly in her mother's eyes. She swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat, wondering what on earth she was supposed to say to that. She hadn't expected the conversation to get so serious and emotional, especially so quickly. If she had known that her mother felt so strongly about it, perhaps she would have suggested it using a different tone of voice. Still, she gave her mom a smile, nodding with honest eagerness. Truth be told, she was looking forward to it, as well. She would have to meet Once-Ler later that evening, of course, but she felt like she needed this time with her mother. They used to have shopping days like that all the time when Norma was around fourteen or fifteen years old, but it was then that Louise had learned that her daughter would never like wearing pretty fancy dresses.

"O-of course, Mom," said Norma, nodding. "I'm really looking forward to it."

Louise beamed from ear-to-ear, suddenly looking much more like her usual self. "It'll be a lot of fun, you'll see. I promise, I won't make you try on anything too...flashy." At this, she giggled, and even Norma couldn't help but crack a small smile.

Trying her best to show just how relieved she was at this promise, Norma replied with a light laugh, "Thanks, I think." She paused, glancing over to the kitchen doorway before adding, "Jean can come along too, if she wants."

"Sure!" her mother said brightly, gently patting her daughter's shoulder. "Really, Norma, I'm a little surprised! Normally, you won't have anything to do with this sort of thing." She smiled, smoothing out her skirt with her free hand. "I really am glad you decided to change your mind about it."

"Who knows?" Norma answered with a playful shrug. "Maybe next, Dad'll come skipping down the stairs singing show tunes," she joked. She giggled at the mental image her words conjured, wondering for a moment what on earth had her so giddy this evening.

Louise laughed, as well, gently squeezing Norma's shoulder for an instant. "You're silly," she said lightly. There was a moment of silence between them, and then the redhead leaned forward and scooped the curly-haired girl into a tight hug. Norma coughed at the strong scent of her mother's perfume, but returned the embrace.

"I love you, Mom," Norma whispered, her eyes tearing up from the heady aroma of roses as it tickled her nose.

"Oh, honey, look at you, getting all choked up over it!" Mrs. Harlow responded, not noticing that her daughter's tears were not from emotion, but an adverse reaction to a particularly overwhelming smell. As she stroked Norma's hair, she continued, "I love you, too, sweetie!"

* * *

Later that night, when Norma was in her bedroom, dressed for bed and curled up next to her window with a book, she was still feeling remarkably cheerful. She didn't know why, but her mood had lifted incredibly ever since this evening. She was practically humming with glee as she leafed through the pages of her book, using the dim lamplight to read by. The air had gotten extremely humid as the night had gone by, and now it was so hot and sticky inside her room that her hair was lying in limp, unruly frizzes. Brushing the curls out of her eyes as she continued to read, she hardly even looked up when there came a knock on her door.

"Come in," she called out, her voice surprisingly loud in the quiet space.

The door swung open, sending in a shaft of warm yellow light from the hallway. Norma placed a bookmark in the middle of her tome, shutting it and resting it on her night stand. Jean stood in the doorway, glancing down the hallway nervously before darting inside the room and shutting the door behind her. She turned and flipped on the light switch; Norma squinted as the lighting changed to full light, allowing herself a few moments to adjust to the difference. When the spots had stopped dancing in her eyes, she could see that Jean's hair was pulled back in a braid, and she was dressed in a pair of comfortable, fluffy pink pajamas.

Taking a seat on Norma's bed, Jean gave her an excited grin and said without preamble, "Tell me everything."

Norma felt a blush of color immediately rush to her face, but tried to keep calm. Clearing her throat, she sat cross-legged on her bed facing her sister. Clasping her hands, she remained quiet for a minute, wondering where exactly she should begin. Giving a light sigh, she looked up at her sister, tilted her head to the side, and asked, "Well...what do you want to hear about first? I don't really know where to start."

Jean sighed impatiently. "You know where to start," she fired back. "Tell me about the boy!"

Biting her lower lip tentatively, the older girl hesitated a moment. The look her sister gave her was enough to make goosebumps break out on her arms. Taking this as urging to just spit out the story already, she began talking, carefully recreating all that had happened with her and Once-Ler. She watched Jean intently as she spoke, trying to gauge her reaction, but the younger girl's poker face was impressive. She remained uncharacteristically quiet and resigned the entire time, which only made Norma even more nervous than before. With a great deal of stuttering, blushing, and cracking her knuckles, she explained their bet, and how she would be meeting him again the very next evening.

When she finished her story, it felt like an eternity before Jean spoke again. There was a beat, and then the redhead broke into a smile so big that it took up nearly half of the area of her face. "You're kidding," she said quietly. When Norma shrugged her shoulders, unaware of what else to say, Jean repeated a little more loudly, "You're kidding!"

Norma pushed her bangs out of the way of her face. "Like I said earlier, don't get too excited. I told you everything that happened, exactly as it happened."

"Well, Norma, I had no idea you were such a flirt!" Jean giggled mischievously. "And now he invited you to his place? To play music for you? That sounds like a little more than friendly conversation to me!"

Rolling her eyes, she replied quickly, "Okay, first of all, I knew you were gonna react this way. I shouldn't have even told you. Second of all, the only music he's gonna play is the jingle he wrote for his advertisement. I'd hardly call that 'romantic' at all."

Jean sighed in defeat, but the gleeful look never left her eyes as she said, "Okay, okay. Whatever you say." She paused, then tacked on with a quick laugh, "But you'll know who to thank if anything _does_happen between you two. Remember, I predicted it!"

"Yeah, yeah. If it makes you happy to think that way, then fine. But I'm telling you, you've got the wrong idea." She fell silent for a while after that, looking down at her fingers. When her younger sister said nothing, she looked up and gave her a curious glance.

Jean quirked a crimson eyebrow, smirking gently. "But, Norma. Okay, I know I promised I'd stop, but I've just got to say this one thing. Would it really be so bad...if something _did _happen?"

Norma kept quiet, her mouth falling open slightly as she thought on this. No, she supposed it wouldn't be all bad. Once-Ler was a nice young man, after all, every bit as interesting as those numerous dates that her mother had set her up on. Maybe even more interesting. But the point was simply that Norma was not interested, and her younger sister was merely entertaining a little girl's fantasy by suggesting those things. And even if Norma were interested in him, it would take two people to be in a relationship. And who was to say that he would ever feel that way about her?

It was foolish for her to even consider it. She felt herself blush with embarrassment, wondering why she had even taken the time to think over the possibility. She barely knew him, and all their previous meetings were purely business. It was utterly ridiculous for a thirteen-year-old girl's ruling on love and romance to affect her in this way. Setting her jaw stubbornly, she cleared her throat and, with great dignity, scraped her hair back into a messy ponytail. She needed sleep, needed to just stop thinking for a little while, especially with the long day ahead of her tomorrow.

"Good night, Jean," she said curtly, moving to turn out the lamp on her night stand.

"Alright. But...but, Norma - "

"_Good night_."

Without another word, Jean stood up and left the room, though the entire time, the giddy smile remained plastered on her face.

* * *

The next morning, Louise was sick.

Norma woke up that morning to the sound of a flushing toilet across the hall. Grimacing, Norma pulled herself out of bed, not even bothering to stop by the mirror and make herself somewhat presentable. Stumbling groggily out into the hallway, she squinted past the sleepy haze in her eyes. A few seconds later, the bathroom door swung open, revealing a very sallow, listless woman with mussed red hair. This sight was enough to wake Norma up completely; she blinked in surprise, wondering how she could have fallen sick so quickly.

Raking her fingers through her bangs, Mrs. Harlow said weakly, "O-oh...good morning, Norma. I'm sorry you had to hear that." She shuddered, looking for a moment as if she might be sick again. "Honey, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to cancel our day out. I'm just...so ill." She broke off, giving a loud, rattling cough. Clearing her throat, she said, "I hope you're not upset."

Norma shook her head quickly. "Mom, really, it's alright. I just...wow. You need to rest. Lie down in bed, drink plenty of fluids..." her voice trailed off, and she swallowed heavily.

"You're right," replied Louise hoarsely. There were noticeable shadows under her eyes, indicating how much sleep she had lost last night. "I just feel terrible. I know you were looking forward to us spending time together today." She placed a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes as she added, "I thought maybe you would like to take Jean today, and then if I'm feeling any better tomorrow, we could all go out together."

Nodding, she replied, "Okay. But...but are you sure that you'll be alright here by yourself? Dad's at work, after all, and Jean and I won't be back until later."

Her mother gave her a small smile, but if anything, it only made her look even more listless than before. "I'll be fine, don't worry. I really don't want you two to catch this. But...thank you, dear."

"Um...well, okay. If you're sure," said Norma. She chewed absently on her lower lip, considering her mother's appearance for an instant. "I hope you feel better soon, Mom," she said sincerely.

Louise nodded shortly. "Thank you, Norma," she responded. She looked like she might say something else, but she stopped abruptly, clapping a hand over her mouth. Darting for the bathroom and slamming the door behind her, she left Norma standing alone in the chilly hall.

Norma hesitated a moment, but when she heard the nasty sounds coming from the other side of the door, she cringed a little where she stood. Turning to face Jean's bedroom door, she called out as loudly as she could without screaming, "Jean! Come on! We're going out!"

Even this early in the morning, the town was already thriving when the two girls arrived there. For much of the morning, Norma and Jean walked around to different shops, though they did not exactly intend to buy from everywhere. After a while of this, Norma began to realize that it was fun, shopping like this, just for the purpose of having a good time. Almost all the shopkeepers knew Jean by name, and gave Norma polite, formal nods when she entered the room. She tried to restrain herself from buying as much as possible, knowing that when it came to buying clothes, her sister had no self-control.

By lunchtime, they were carrying one large shopping bag each in the crooks of their arms. They were headed for a place to take a lunch break, and then perhaps visit the park for a while. Spending this time with her sister really made her realize just how much she had missed this sort of thing. They made light conversation with each other as they strode towards an outdoor pavilion where they could eat and rest for a while. They purchased their food, trying to be frugal with their money, considering the fact that their budget was slowly shrinking.

The rest of the evening passed by in much the same fashion. At the end of the day, the girls were lugging several shopping bags down the street, headed home for the evening. Or at least Jean was. Norma would only be given just enough time to stop by, drop off her belongings, perhaps brush her hair, and then she would be off again. After a long day, she was feeling weary, more than ready to just lie down. But a promise was a promise, and it seemed like it might even be fun, getting to see where Once-Ler lived. Thankfully, Jean managed to keep the comments to a minimum when they arrived home; taking the time to brush through her hair again and change into a pair of more comfortable shoes, she said goodbye to her sister. Mrs. Harlow was still bed-ridden, and when Norma left, she was fast asleep.

* * *

Once-Ler bit back a particularly nasty swear word as he strode to his wagon, packing up for the evening. He realized that, even after thinking of it just yesterday, he had completely forgotten to tell the Lorax about his 'guest'. He smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. Now what was he supposed to do? Just waltz into the forest with Norma and hope that the Lorax took it well? Or, better yet, didn't even notice them? He rolled his eyes at his own foolishness, his stomach tightening with nervousness. This was going to be a complete disaster, he could feel it.

As he packed up the last of his belongings, he turned around, patting Melvin lightly on the head. He glanced down both sides of the sidewalk, but there was no sign of her yet. He had to admit, it felt more than a little odd, just standing there and waiting for her, with nothing else to do with his time. He supposed that he could continue to play for a while, but the streets were nearly empty at this point, as they always were at this time of day. He sighed, biting down on his lower lip and looking up at the ever-darkening sky. It was, as usual, a beautiful evening, the sunset striking against the periwinkle sky.

The time passed by, and after several impatient kicks from Melvin - to the point where he was certain he would be bruised in the legs and hips the next day - Norma finally made it to their usual meeting spot. She was looking particularly pleased with herself, dressed in a bright outfit that looked brand-new. In fact, he was sure it was brand-new; there was still a price tag hanging from the bottom hem of her brown pleated skirt.

"Hi," she greeted him, giving him a wave and a genuinely bright smile. "Good seeing you again."

He grinned in return, striding over to meet her. "Hi there," he replied. Glancing at the tag, he smirked and said playfully, "Been doing a little shoplifting today, huh?"

"What?" she asked, eyebrows knitting in confusion. Using his index finger, he indicated the tag hanging from her skirt. She followed his line of sight, gasping when she saw the piece of paper dangling from the plastic string. Blushing, she gripped it in her fist and yanked, throwing the trash away in a nearby garbage bin. "My sister and I went shopping today; I thought I got all the tags, but I guess I didn't notice that one."

He nodded in understanding, laughing a little. "Don't worry about it," he reassured her. "You look nice." He felt a rush of color flood his face, but kept the smile on his face regardless. They were friends now, after all. Friends were allowed to be nice to each other like this, and it wouldn't be awkward.

"Th-thank you," she replied, her voice considerably softer. She looked down at her feet, her face flushing, as well. This change in mood only lasted a second, though, before she looked back up at him with narrowed eyes. Cocking her head to the side ever so slightly, she gave him an amused smirk and added, "Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?"

He shrugged lightly, saying, "Well, we're friends now, aren't we? That's what friends are for! Aren't you the one who said you didn't want any more challenges?"

Norma giggled, tossing her hair out of her face. "Y-yes, I guess so. But that didn't mean that I wanted to stop our usual...banter. I think I'd miss that too much to just give it up entirely," she continued with a smile.

He considered this for a moment, then said, "Yeah, you're right. It would be really different, wouldn't it?" She nodded, her curls bouncing around her shoulders, and he smirked with amusement. "In that case, you look hideous this evening, Norma," he announced cheerfully.

"And you, Once-Ler, are looking particularly greasy and unruly, as well," she replied jokingly, swatting him lightly on his upper arm. Once-Ler laughed at this, and Norma linked his arm with hers playfully. "So?" she asked, looking up at him. "Where are we headed this evening, anyway?"

He led her back to his wagon, helping her up into the seat as he answered, "Uh, well, I guess we're going to head to my place. Or, well, the place I'm staying for now. I don't know if it'd be accurate to call it my home yet." He paused, then glanced over at her. "Have you ever been to the Truffula Valley before?" he asked.

As he had expected, she shook her head, eyes glowing with intrigue. "Actually, you know, I've never even heard of it. Is it very far from here?"

He thought about this for a moment, then shook his head. "No, not really. It shouldn't be a long trip. We should be there before you know it."

"Oh. Alright, then. In the meantime, there sure is a lot to look at. What a beautiful place," she cooed, gazing in awe at the scenery expanding around them on either side.

He smiled, nodding in agreement. At dusk, the entire place looked peaceful and settled, the sky afire with color as the sun sank, rays of light splashing across the clouds like paint on a canvas. The grass was lush and green, the air crisp, fresh. Sure, this place was breathtaking in its own way, but the Truffula Valley in all its splendor made anywhere else look positively bleak and colorless in comparison. If she was this awestruck over just the road that led there, Once-Ler could hardly wait to see her face when they actually arrived.

On the way there, they made polite conversation. She asked questions about his home, and he answered as best as he could without giving away major details. He wanted her to be surprised by it all. She was very inquisitive, he learned quickly, always asking questions about something. Not that he really minded talking to her. All of her questions were reasonable and levelheaded, and often genuinely made him think before giving an answer. By the end of the trip, both of them were laughing and smiling, and seemed to be quite unable to stop doing so. It was a welcome distraction from the train wreck of a conversation that he was sure would come later on that evening.

When they arrived in the Truffula Valley, an immediate smile spread across Norma's features. Once-Ler watched with an enthusiastic grin as her eyes lit up behind her glasses, her mouth dropping open as she gazed wonderingly at her surroundings. The sweet smell of Truffula trees was heavy in the air that night, the light breeze stirring her hair slightly. Barbaloots chirped happily as they scurried across the rolling hillsides, playing and hunting for berries. Swans twirled and danced in the air as they flew, majestic wings spread out at their sides. Melvin, who had remained relatively unimpressed by all this from the beginning, gave an impassive snort and continued walking.

"Well?" he asked, turning to face her. "What do you think?"

Norma looked at him, eyes wide. "Y-you...you live here?" she gasped, the amazement clear in her voice. He nodded, and she laughed, beaming as she said, "This place is...it's incredible! Like something out of a dream!"

"Isn't it?" he agreed, gazing at his surroundings. Even now, after living there for weeks, it still never failed to take his breath away. "I'm really lucky to have found it, I think." He paused, throwing a quick glance to his right. When he caught sight of his house, he tapped her on the shoulder lightly and said, pointing, "That's where I live. Over there."

"How cute!" she replied, smiling delightedly. "You must love living here. It's very...quiet. No one here to bother you."

Immediately, Once-Ler's thoughts traveled to the first day he had ever spent in the forest, when all the animals had invaded his house, including the Lorax. After getting punched in the nose, seeing a Humming Fish take a bath in his coffee mug, and having a swan give birth in his cereal bowl, he begged to differ. On the contrary, things never seemed to be quiet here. There was always something to keep him on his toes. He snorted, rolling his eyes with mirth.

"Yeah, sure," he told her, though not unkindly. "That's what I thought at first, too."

When they approached his house, Once-Ler leapt from the wagon, leading Melvin to his wooden post and tying him there. He walked back around and helped Norma down, clutching her upper arms gently and keeping hold on her as she stepped off. They held the position for a split second, and then with a lot of blushing and awkward stuttering, he released her. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt, giggling lightly as she stared around at the towering trees. She stretched her arms out to her sides, spinning once in a full circle with a laugh.

Once-Ler raised an eyebrow and smirked. "You must be an outdoorsy girl," he guessed, amused but at the same time relieved that she seemed to like it here.

Norma blushed, immediately bringing her arms to rest at her sides. She fidgeted with her hair, embarrassed at being caught, he supposed. "O-oh, well, it's just...where I live, there's room to breathe, sure, but there's nothing like this. I feel like I can actually...I don't know, be free here."

Just as he was about to reply to this, however, a loud clearing-of-the-throat from behind them interrupted him. He jumped, knowing immediately who it was. Turning around on his heel, he came face-to-face with none other than the Guardian of the Forest himself, in all his fuzzy orange glory. He stood with great dignity despite his height and stout stature, his arms folded across his chest. His mustache twitched indignantly as he gazed with narrowed eyes up at Norma and Once-Ler, who looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"So, Beanpole," began the Lorax with a sigh. "When exactly were you planning on telling me that ya brought company?"


	6. Chapter Six: Don't Give Up

Once-Ler tensed, as if someone had just thrown an entire bag of ice down the back of his shirt. For a moment, all he could do was stare at the Lorax, wide-eyed, face pale, and hope that the conversation would not be too violent. Quickly, he threw a glance in Norma's direction, sighing a little with relief when he realized that she didn't look too intimidated. Her eyes were large behind her round, circular glasses, gleaming with surprise. But there was something else there, as well. When she stared at the Guardian of the Forest, for just the flicker of an instant, he thought he saw some kind of recognition there. Where could she have possibly seen the Lorax before, though? As far as he knew, the fuzzy orange creature had never left the Truffula Valley, and Norma had already said earlier that she had never been to this place before. It was definitely puzzling, but for now, he put that to the back of his mind. How they knew each other was the least of his troubles.

With a shudder, he was reminded of the very first time that he had ever met the Lorax. At first, he hadn't been frightened in the least when he encountered the supposedly legendary creature. In fact, he had found him to be utterly adorable, rather than the abrasive, bossy person he really was. A few marshmallows and one bed-surfing trip later, and Once-Ler had known the truth. The Lorax, while he might look as cute as a litter of puppies opening their eyes for the first time, was to be taken seriously. A force to be reckoned with, definitely. He had been too quick to judge the Guardian of the Forest, and it had landed him in a seriously tight spot, one that he wouldn't soon forget. Especially since the Lorax held it over his head all the time, though admittedly jokingly so most of the time.

Not that Once-Ler was particularly frightened of the Lorax. It wasn't that exactly. Ever since the night that he had wound up floating downstream while sleeping, the two of them had certainly had an interesting relationship, to say the least. It wasn't precisely a friendship, but they were a little more than just acquaintances. They clashed on several occasions, more often than not about the tree situation, though sometimes Once-Ler brought up his ever-dwindling marshmallow supply that he knew the barbaloots were siphoning from. To this day, the Lorax still claimed that without proof, they were all still innocent. Despite all this, though, they got along fairly well on most days. They tolerated each other, at least.

The situation was made better by the fact that Once-Ler had promised not to chop down any more of the Truffula trees. The tufts from the trees were essential to his production of thneeds, and in fact were the entire reason behind his choosing the Truffula Valley as his place of lodging until further notice. After the incident involving his bed being put in the river, he had promised to stop chopping down their trees. After all, he had to repay them for saving his life somehow. Most of the time, he was pretty good about keeping quiet about the fact that if they hadn't pushed him in there in the first place, he wouldn't have needed saving. He still had plenty of tufts left over from chopping down just one tree, so he wasn't too worried about making thneeds at the moment. Rather than waste time worrying about it before it was necessary, he had just decided to concentrate on sales for the time being.

Still, regardless of how friendly they were with each other, the fact remained that the Lorax never took kindly to unwanted visitors in the forest. The Truffula Valley had been secluded for so long, and now that Once-Ler had discovered it himself, it would be hard work for it to be kept secret. Norma was a nice girl, and he knew that she would never want to cause any harm to a place as beautiful as this one. But the Lorax was automatically suspicious of everyone, especially someone who was friends with the man who had chopped down one of his trees. Never mind that Once-Ler had already apologized to the animals on several occasions, and at one time had practically even taken an oath against chopping down any more Truffulas. As far as the Lorax was concerned, he was still at fault.

Sending a nervous glance over in Norma's direction, Once-Ler cleared his throat. He gave the Lorax an awkward wave, chuckling shakily as he greeted, "U-uh...hey, Mustache. How's the, uh, speaking for the trees going?"

He cursed himself mentally for sounding so weak and frightened. He had been living in this forest for weeks now! Why was he suddenly acting like he was a child, being caught by his mother with his hand in the cookie jar? He was a fully grown adult, and definitely knew better than to just shrink away from a situation like this. It was completely childish and overdramatic to think that he could get in serious trouble just for inviting a girl to the forest. It wasn't as though they were going to go on a tree-chopping party. He was only there to play a song for her, and then she would be heading right back home. No harm done, right? He shook his head slightly to himself, forcing himself to be calm and collected despite the awkwardness of the situation.

The Lorax fixed him with a deadpan stare. It proved very effective, coupled with his bushy yellow eyebrows and large mustache that took up nearly half of his entire face. His eyes narrowed inquisitively as they darted in between Once-Ler and Norma. The dark-haired man could practically see the gears turning in the orange creature's mind. He wondered how long it would take to convince him that they meant no harm, and only intended on staying for a little while before taking her back home for the evening. A long period of silence followed; Once-Ler scratched the back of his neck nervously, frowning a little as the quiet dragged on. Briefly, he wondered if he was supposed to be the one to break that silence. Just as he drew a breath to say something else, though, the Lorax spoke up again, surprising him a little.

"Eh, can't complain," said the short man, placing his hands on his pudgy hips. "Same old, same old, really. Except, ya know...that!" he exclaimed, his voice growing somewhat harsher as he pointed a furry index finger in Norma's direction. She blinked, her mouth dropping open a little, but otherwise remained quiet. Turning back to Once-Ler now, the Lorax said, "What were ya thinkin', Beanpole? This ain't a hotel! Get her outta here, will ya?"

Norma remained fairly stoic throughout all this, which, for a newcomer to the Truffula Valley, was pretty impressive. The only way that Once-Ler could tell she was even a little taken aback by this remark was the faint shade of pink tinting the freckles lining her nose and cheeks. Lifting her finger to her chest, she tilted her head to the side slightly and asked the Lorax, "Wait. Do you mean _me_?"

Rolling his eyes, the Lorax answered, "Who d'you think I mean? Snow White? I don't know what this kid's been tellin' ya, but I don't exactly welcome visitors here."

"Actually...he didn't tell a lot," said Norma, though not unkindly, just honestly. Tucking a lock of curly hair behind her ear, she shot Once-Ler an uncertain glance for a short instant before directing her gaze back to the Lorax. "Why don't you like people visiting your forest? Once-Ler lives here, doesn't he?"

The Lorax gave an irritated little huff, folding his arms across his chest as he countered, "Yeah, he's stayin' here 'till he finally manages to sell that thing. But I gotta think of what's best for the trees. Can't speak for themselves, ya know." He seemed to swell with pride as he talked about this; even his mustache got a little puffier than before. "It's my job to protect 'em from people like you that wanna chop 'em down!"

Once-Ler sighed heavily, deciding that he couldn't let Norma just take that kind of talk anymore. Pushing his fedora back on his head with exasperation, he chimed in, "Look, uh...be nice to her, okay? I was the one who invited her here, you know, so...don't yell at her." He shrugged his shoulders before saying, "Besides, does she look like the kind of person that wants to go around and mess up forests in her free time?"

"Yeah, but how'm I supposed to know that, huh? If you're the one that told her she can come here, then how do I know she's not gonna go axe-happy on this place, too?" accused the Lorax, raising an eyebrow suspiciously as he stared at Norma.

There was a beat; Once-Ler opened his mouth to say something, but again was cut off before he could get a word out. Norma stepped in front of him, looking directly at the Lorax with narrowed eyes, her glasses glinting in the fading afternoon sunlight. Tossing a few stray curls out of her face, she set her jaw and cleared her throat. Her face had turned an even brighter shade of red than before, but she didn't show any signs of being embarrassed by what had just been said about her. In fact, she looked downright offended more than anything else. He sent her a questioning glance, eyebrows raising so high that they hid themselves in the shadow of the brim of his hat. She merely gave him a barely perceptible nod in response, and he decided to just watch and see what happened. He was certainly ready to intervene, though, should the situation turn...violent.

"What an accusation to make!" she cried, placing her hands on her hips. Once-Ler bit back a smile as he saw the surprise register on the Lorax's face. He was only allowed to enjoy the moment for an instant before Norma continued talking, the words tumbling out quickly. "For your information, I happen to think that this place is gorgeous. I would never want to cut down any of these trees, and frankly, I'm a little insulted that you could think such a thing about me before you even know me. Anyone that would even consider chopping down these trees was obviously dropped on the head as an infant, and I'm sure Once-Ler feels the same way. Don't you?" she added in the same breath, turning to face him, eyes wide and expectant.

Once-Ler blinked, staring mutely back at her for a moment. His face flushed as a pang of guilt tugged at his insides. What could he possibly say to that? Shaking his head a little in momentary confusion, he finally managed to stutter, "I-I, uh, well, actually -"

"Ya kiddin' me?" The Lorax responded, amusement coloring his gravelly voice. There was a brief pause, and then the fuzzy orange man burst into a fit of heaving laughter, practically doubling over as he added, "If gettin' dropped on your head makes ya wanna chop down trees, then this kid's mom must have really hated him!" He indicated Once-Ler with a wave of his finger, and the tall man blushed a little with embarrassment. "He was the one that chopped down one of my trees in the first place! Did he tell ya that?"

"Y-you did? Really?" Norma asked him softly, swiveling her gaze to his now. Thankfully, there was no anger in her voice, though there was an undercurrent of disappointment that he heard all too clearly. His heart twisted a little inside his chest, and he wondered why he even cared so much. It was only one little tree; he had really done nothing wrong.

"Well, yeah," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders, his voice considerably quieter than before. When he spoke next, though, his usual attitude was back just as quickly as it had left. "B-but it was just one tree, Norma. _One_. I needed to chop it down to use the tufts to make my thneeds. But, uh...some things happened..." he shivered to himself, almost able to feel the sting of the cold river water against his skin, "and, well, I promised them that I wouldn't chop down any more Truffulas."

Relief flickered across her face. She nodded her head, grinning a little as she breathed, "Oh, well, thank goodness. It would be such a shame to see a place like this wasted away like that." She stopped talking, but after a beat of silence, her brow furrowed with confusion. She frowned as she looked up at him, concern lacing her voice as she said, "But if you don't chop down any more of these trees, then...how will you make your thneeds?"

Once-Ler gave her a reassuring grin. "Don't worry about it. For now, I've got plenty of tufts left over from that one tree, so I've got a while before I even need to start worrying about it." He paused in consideration, then smirked and said, "Maybe you can help with ideas when it finally does come to that."

She smirked back at him, folding her arms across her chest and giggling lightly. "I'll consider it," she countered. "But don't you think you're getting a little ahead of yourself? You've still got a song to play for me, mister," she reminded him, poking him playfully in the chest. She turned over her shoulder to face the Lorax as she added quickly, "That is..._if_I can stay?"

The Lorax considered this for a moment, his mustache twitching as he stared up at Norma. He moved his hands to his hips, his gaze swiveling from the bushy-haired girl to the gangly man beside her. After what seemed like an eternity of silence between the three of them, the creature drew himself up to full height, giving a harrumphing sort of cough and narrowing his eyes. He shrugged his shoulders, finally waving his hand dismissively towards them.

"Go ahead," he decided, though he still sounded somewhat reluctant about it. He turned to Norma next, jabbing an index finger at her as he declared loudly, "But I'm warnin' ya, kid. You even _think _about choppin' down one o'them trees, and I'll go so far up your nose ya won't be able to see straight for a week! Got it?"

Norma looked startled for a second, blinking with wide eyes. After just a moment, though, her face broke into a grin, and she giggled lightly. "Okay," she agreed with an enthusiastic nod. "Got it. I promise, no tree-chopping. And," she added, gesturing towards Once-Ler with her thumb, "I'll be sure to keep an eye on this one for you. Just in case."

The Lorax laughed at this, a deep, throaty chortle that sounded even more grating and masculine in comparison to Norma's chiming laughter. It was so strange that, with their contrasting personalities, they were getting along so well. He was loud and abrasive, while as far as Once-Ler could see, Norma was much more reserved, though also self-confident in several ways, as well. Once-Ler blushed a little as they chuckled together over her joke about him, but couldn't really bring himself to be truly offended by it. It wasn't that bad, after all, and when it came from someone who was already so straightforward with everyone, it was just a typical sort of thing.

"You ain't half bad, kid," the Lorax decided, giving Norma a short nod of approval. "Now get goin', you two, before I change my mind, alright?"

"Okay, okay," said the Once-Ler, waving down the Lorax and rolling his eyes as he turned to face Norma. She giggled at the gesture, and the dark-haired man smirked a little with amusement. "I thought we could go down by the river," he told her with an eager grin. "It's where I normally go to write my songs."

She nodded in agreement. "That sounds great," she enthused. "Lead the way, then, good sir," she added jokingly, gently reaching forward and grabbing his hand.

On the way down to the riverside, they continued chatting lightheartedly with one another. Once-Ler could practically feel the Lorax staring after them until they finally were out of earshot, still striding downhill along the path of several pink Truffula trees. Norma held onto his hand as they walked, but he began to notice after a while that it was more to keep herself steady than anything else. The hilly terrain of the place, coupled with her short frame and her large, clunky shoes made it difficult for her to walk without stumbling. He did his best to remember to keep a good grip on her while talking at the same time, though he had to admit, he was distracted once or twice by their joking. They discussed regular, everyday things with one another; their lives at home, the troubles of having siblings. Silly things that, until now, Once-Ler had never really thought to bring up with her. But he realized as he spoke with her that he was glad they had the chance to talk like this. She seemed very intelligent, her jokes clever and witty.

By the time they made it down to the banks of the river, Once-Ler's face ached from the strain of smiling, but he couldn't help himself. Whatever she said never failed to make him laugh or smile in some way. In fact, he was sure that both of them were having a hard time trying not to laugh. They both looked positively giddy as they stumbled to the foot of the river, where the grass gave way to sloshing mud and water that splashed over the sides of the embankment. In the waning evening sunlight, the water was glittering with the golden streaks of sunset, turned steel-gray by the light. Picking a spot that wasn't too muddy under a nearby orange Truffula, he took a seat. He grinned up at Norma and patted the spot next to him; she nodded and perched herself at his side under the shade of the tree.

"Well, here we are," he said with a sigh, his eyes narrowing against the light as he looked around in wonder at the surrounding area.

Norma released her grip on his hand, interlacing her own fingers as she looked around and gasped quietly in awe. "It's all so beautiful," she whispered. Turning her head back to him, she added, "No wonder you come down here when you want to write. It's so...peaceful."

He chuckled as he moved his guitar into the proper playing position, his hands draped over the instrument like it was second nature. And, by now, it probably was. "I guess so," he agreed with a nod. "At least, at this time of day it is. When it's nighttime, I can hear all the birds...and the barbaloots...in this place, it's hardly ever really quiet. But I don't know if I'd be able to work without a _little_sound. If that makes sense at all."

"It makes perfect sense to me," she assured him, leaning against the trunk of the Truffula tree with a contented sigh. Glancing over at him, she said, "I can relate to that. That's why whenever I write, I always have some kind of music playing in my room. It helps me concentrate, as long as it's not overwhelmingly loud."

"You write, too?" he asked her, shifting his position just long enough to take off his fedora and set it on the ground beside his left leg. He mirrored her action of leaning against the tree, curiosity gleaming in his eyes as he looked across to her.

She grinned, shrugging her shoulders somewhat sheepishly. "Not really," she confessed. "Just in my diary for now. I would love to maybe be a writer someday, though," she added, her facial expression brightening considerably as she spoke. "But I don't know of anyone who'd want to read what I have to say." She laughed quietly, a faint blush coloring her face.

There was a short pause, and then Once-Ler smiled and said, "Well, hey. You seem interesting enough to me. I say you keep at it. And the day that your book gets published, I want a signed copy."

"I'll be sure and remember that," giggled Norma, obviously in lighter spirits now. She considered him for a moment, then nodded and said more gently, "We'll show these people, won't we? We can be more than just this." There was a beat of silence between them, and she smiled broadly, leaning a little towards him and saying eagerly, "But, first things first. Let's hear that song."

For a moment, Once-Ler sat and stared, a little taken aback by her sudden change in attitude. Blinking, he brought himself back out of his reverie, moving his fingers back to the strings almost instinctively. "Right," he told her, immediately smiling back at her once he saw the look on her face. "Okay, here goes nothing, then."

Without further preamble, he launched into his song with a renewed energy and fervor. Every so often, he would glance up at Norma as he played, trying to gauge her reaction. She smiled back at him the entire time, obviously entertained by the scenario. It wasn't every day that a girl was serenaded with advertising jingles by some stranger with a guitar and a pink knitted sweater. Regardless of how silly and out-of-the-blue it sounded, he continued playing, and when he was finished, he was feeling fairly confident about his overall performance. Of course, his own emotions had proven to be wrong in the past. He looked at Norma, eyebrows raised expectantly, and waited hopefully for a positive response.

After considering him for a moment, she smirked gently, pushing her bangs out of her face as she said with a nod, "Well...when you're right, you're right. I actually...really liked it this time."

"You did? Really?" he asked excitedly, his heart thumping wildly against his chest. Finally, after so much effort, was he starting to succeed at last?

"Really," she responded. "So," she added with a determined look on her face, nodding in indication to the thneed that lay in a crumpled heap next to his fedora. "How much, then?"

He blinked, his eyebrows knitting together with confusion. He glanced back at the thneed, slowly picking it up and holding it gingerly in his arms. "Wait...what?" he questioned lamely, still momentarily stunned by the fact that she actually did like his song this time around.

"How much money do you want for the thneed?" she repeated patiently, tilting her head to the side slightly with a soft smile. "We _did_have a deal, after all. And I'm nothing if not a woman of my word."

Once-Ler smiled broadly in return, but after a moment, the expression slowly faded. He rubbed the back of his neck, the gleeful look replaced by one of uncertainty. "I don't know," he said, lifting his shoulders in a neat shrug. "It's just...yeah, I know what we said earlier, but now that we're...friends...it feels weird taking money from you." He laughed shortly. "I feel like I'd be robbing you blind."

She shook her head so vigorously that, for a moment, her curls were just a brown blur. "Not at all," she reassured him firmly. Giving him an amused grin, she added, "I'm nineteen years old. I think I'm qualified enough to make a purchase on my own by now. Don't you think?" Pulling out her wallet, she filed through some spare cash, glancing back up at him for an instant. "So, how much?" she repeated.

Still in amazement that things had actually worked out for him this time, Once-Ler thought over this for a few seconds before saying, "Hm...how does five dollars sound to you?"

"You're the salesman," she reminded him with a light, playful giggle. "You tell me!"

Laughing in response to this, he nodded and said with a newfound confidence, "Okay. Five dollars it is, then." Holding out his palm, he tacked on jokingly, "Fork it over."

Still beaming, she did so, folding the money and placing it in his hand. "There you go," she said. "Five bucks, exactly. And they were well-earned. I told you I was hard to impress," she reminded him as he handed her the thneed.

"So, what won you over in the end?" he asked her, genuinely curious as to what had changed. He had been mostly bluffing about the differences in environment being the cause of his miserable failures previously.

Norma considered this for a moment. Biting her lower lip thoughtfully, she answered, "I suppose that...well, once I got to know you a little better...I realized that you're actually a pretty good guy. And you work hard at this. You deserve a little break." She paused, twirling a lock of hair nervously around her finger as she added, blushing lightly, "And besides, I never thought that you couldn't play. In fact, I think you have a real affinity for music."

"You really think so, huh?" Once-Ler asked, raking his long, slim fingers through his dark bangs. Chuckling a little at this, he continued, "Why don't you try telling my family that? They always thought it was so annoying. Which, you know, now that I look back, might have been one of the reasons I liked playing it so much," he recalled with a mischievous grin.

"Well, your family obviously doesn't have good taste in music, then," she assured him with a firm nod. "Honestly, I'd like to hear you play again sometime. N-not necessarily a jingle. Maybe a real song."

He shrugged his shoulders, trying to remain impassive despite the fact that on the inside, he was cheering and celebrating. "Sounds good to me," he told her with a crooked grin. "I apologize in advance for any lyrical cheesiness that you might stumble upon in future songs."

Norma nudged against him gently, a smirk spreading across her features. "No, no, they're really coming along," she told him. "I'm sure they'll be much better with more practice. And anyway, writing a jingle can't be easy. Even for someone as musically inclined as you. I wouldn't worry about it too much." She paused for a moment, cracking her knuckles, and then added quietly, "The people in that town are just afraid of change, anyway."

Once-Ler nodded, immediately able to relate to that. "That sounds like my hometown, actually," he said, thinking almost instantly of all the faces of his family. "They all kinda gave me a hard time about this. You know, leaving home to try and sell thneeds. But one of these days, I'll prove them all wrong." He nodded confidently, staring into the evening sky with optimism in his blue eyes.

The sun was nearly completely set by now, the entire landscape hushed and peaceful as the bright sunlight gave way to a misty twilight. Abovehead, Once-Ler could hear the musical chirps of the Swammee Swans as they soared through the air, chasing after one another, as if in a waltz. The river splashed playfully, the melodies of the Humming Fish bubbling up through the water and ringing in the quiet atmosphere. Coupled with the sounds of the brown barbaloots as they foraged for berries, the entire forest was like one big symphony. Altogether, it created a beautiful, haunting song, one that he felt he could listen to forever.

Norma and Once-Ler stayed like that for several hours, though it only felt like a few minutes to him. They talked to one another about several different things; oftentimes, they would start discussing one subject, and then segue into a different matter entirely without even noticing the change. It was very comfortable, and soon enough, the two of them were chatting like old friends. One minute, they were doubled over laughing, the next, they were looking into each other's eyes and the conversation had suddenly turned much gentler. The nuances of their discussion were pleasant ones, and if Once-Ler hadn't looked up and finally noticed that the sky had turned deep black, dotted with bright pinpricks of starlight, they could have gone on for longer.

He gasped, immediately springing to attention and grabbing his fedora. "It's getting late," he breathed as he smashed the hat on his head. "I should be getting you back home, before your family thinks I've kidnapped you or something." He looked over to her, eyes wide with surprise.

"O-oh, my," she stuttered, stumbling to her feet and making a last-minute grab for the thneed. Scooping it up into her arms, she threw it around her neck like a scarf, blocking out the chilly night air. "How did I not notice that? I mean, one minute I was talking with you, and it was sunny...and the next...wow!" She looked up at him and sighed. "I hope you don't mind taking me home? I probably could have found my way back in the light, but my eyesight is so bad, I'm pretty much blind now." She pushed her eyeglasses up on the bridge of her nose, and sure enough, Once-Ler could see her squinting behind the lenses, even in the darkness.

He shrugged his shoulders, reaching out for her hand almost instinctively. "Nah, I don't mind," he told her. "But I guess we'd better hurry up. The drive back might take a little longer, since it's nighttime."

Once-Ler caught sight of the tiniest smile as it flickered across Norma's features. Her cheeks were turning ruddy from the cold night air. "Well, then, what are we waiting for?"

She slid her hand into his with an even wider smile than before, and the two of them began their run uphill. Laughing the entire way, of course.


	7. Chapter Seven: A Little White Lie

Norma had to admit, the thneed was a very good purchase. It did a good job of keeping out the chilly night air, sitting around her neck and serving as a fluffy pink scarf. And the material was so soft and light, it seemed impossible that it could be used for anything. Fabric that was so fluffy would surely break under the slightest amount of pressure, she thought. Not the thneed; it had already snagged itself on the branches of at least five Truffula trees, and there wasn't even a tiny nick in the stitching to show where it had happened. She was so impressed with the durability of the invention that she hardly even noticed that she kept tripping up during their walk uphill. She clung tightly to Once-Ler's hand as they walked, but mostly because of her blindness in the dark due to her eyesight problems than anything else.

"Sorry about this," Once-Ler said - for about the hundredth time - as they approached the wagon at the top of the hill. Even with her glasses on, in the darkness, the wagon only looked like a white blurry spot in her vision. "I guess I just got carried away."

Norma giggled, stumbling after him as best as she could. She hated how terrible her eyesight had gotten over the years, and despised even more that it rendered her completely defenseless and horribly wimpy. It was humiliating beyond belief that she needed to rely on another person just to help her walk, no matter how nice Once-Ler was to her. She wished fervently that she had paid attention to the time of day instead of allowing herself to get so caught up in the conversation with him. He was wonderful company for her, of course, but she cursed the fact that she was so helpless. She could barely keep up with his long-legged stride as they finally reached the peak of the hill.

"It's okay, Once-Ler," she assured him with a nod as he climbed into the wagon. His limber movements made it look easy, but for someone with such a short stature like Norma, it was much easier said than accomplished. "Really, I had a nice time tonight."

Once he was seated in the wagon, he extended his hand out towards her with a grin. She took his hand again, noticing with fleeting surprise how familiar the gesture was starting to become to her. She wasn't sure if she should be embarrassed or glad of that. Norma clambered into the wagon just as clumsily as ever, finally sliding into the seat beside the gangly musician with a light laugh. Even in the darkness, she could see him holding back laughter, obviously not wanting to hurt her feelings or get caught being amused at her situation.

She nodded as they began the ride home, nudging him playfully. "Go ahead," she told him with a smile, folding her hands in her lap. "You can laugh; I know you want to. I really don't mind."

He chuckled, patting her lightly on the shoulder. "And offend a paying customer? Never!" he joked, reclining against the back of the wagon and stretching his legs out in front of him. He crossed his ankles casually and folded his arms across his chest, staring up at the night sky as the buggy rolled along down the dirt path.

"Whatever," she replied, rolling her eyes and smirking with amusement. Turning to him, she added, "I know it probably makes me look like a complete idiot. I've had vision problems ever since I was...gosh, at least six." She brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes and moved it behind her left ear. She shrugged a little, looking somewhat sheepish as she said, "I've got to admit, even I think it's funny sometimes."

Once-Ler cracked a smile, his sky blue eyes bright with youth and optimism, even in the night. "Well," he began, his voice colored with amusement, "in _that_case, I'll say that you did look pretty goofy. N-no offense or anything," he stammered quickly, glancing over at her.

She giggled. "None taken." There was a moment's pause, and then with a flip of her hair, she looked across at him and teased, though not unkindly, "Especially coming from the man who wears a pink sweater while parading around town on a donkey."

Melvin gave an irritated huff, stopping for only an instant, but it was a sudden enough stop to cause the wagon to lurch and throw them off-balance. Once-Ler didn't seem too surprised by this; in fact, he seemed rather accustomed to this erratic behavior by now. But Norma, though she hated to admit it, was a city girl at heart, and was new to this wagon-riding thing. The sudden movement had startled her, made her feel as if she were about to fly off. It was only after several seconds had passed in silence that she realized that she had instinctively reached for Once-Ler's arm. Both of her arms were wrapped around his upper arm, and she was clinging to him for dear life. The two of them looked into each other's eyes for a moment, and she could feel the blush creeping back onto her features. She gazed at him, her mouth slightly open, but the mood was broken when he laughed quietly and raised an eyebrow, obviously amused.

"S-sorry about that," she stuttered, immediately releasing his arm and busying her hands by smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt. She avoided eye contact with him for a few seconds, embarrassed of her behavior, no matter how reflexive it had been.

From somewhere beside her, Once-Ler laughed. In the darkness of the night, when she wasn't looking directly at him, it was as if she were talking to him from a distance. "It's okay," he told her with a nod. "I don't exactly have girls throwing themselves at me like that all the time, so it's really flattering," he said, his voice light and joking.

She looked back towards him, instantly dubious of this. Raising her eyebrows, she said, "I wasn't throwing myself at you, first of all. It was just a reaction." She cracked a grin despite herself, unable to stay angry with him for long. Tilting her head to the side slightly, she added, politely curious, "And second of all, I find that very hard to believe. You're tall, play guitar...you write your own songs, for crying out loud! You can sing, and most of all, you get up in front of those people with that same optimism every day, no matter what they say to you. The girls I went to school with would go crazy for a boy like that." By the end of her little monologue, she was nearly breathless, having plowed very quickly through most of the sentences. In fact, she wondered if any of it had even made sense to him.

She breathed a soft sigh of relief when she saw the recognition of what she had just said flicker onto Once-Ler's features for a quick moment. He laughed, giving her a lopsided grin as he shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Yeah, maybe. I dunno. I've spent most of my time lately focusing on my work. Thneeds don't make themselves, you know."

"And what about when you were in high school? You didn't have any girlfriends back then?" Norma, being only nineteen, had only just graduated last year, and so was curious to learn about this man's school life. She didn't know what his relationship status was so particularly interesting to her, but the conversation seemed to be working, as long as she ignored how flaming red her face was becoming.

"Actually, uh..." he was still smiling, but if she wasn't mistaken, he looked a little awkward and uncomfortable for an instant. He pulled restlessly on his fedora, lifting it off his face just a little and giving a nervous chuckle before continuing. "No. Not really. I mean, sure, I had my share of crushes...and things like that, but girls back home wouldn't give me the time of day."

Norma inclined her head to face him, her eyes wide with intrigue. "Really?" Gesturing to his guitar, she added with a playful grin, "I'd bet if you had serenaded them with that guitar, they'd have been yours in seconds."

Again he laughed, and Norma was relieved that he at least seemed to be good-humored about her prodding questions. "Well...I guess so," he conceded, still looking a little flustered but otherwise undeterred by this line of questioning. He looked down at his guitar for a second, gave a light sigh, and shrugged his shoulders. If she wasn't mistaken, he looked almost regretful. "Back in high school, I guess I didn't really think of it that way. I asked my uncle for advice on, you know, how to impress a girl."

"Oh? And what did he tell you?" Norma questioned, her fingers toying absently with her hair as she spoke.

"He said, uh...that if I really wanted to impress a girl, then I would need to win them over with some hidden talent. Someone that no one knew I could do, and then they would just be blown away when they saw how great I was." As he finished explaining, he glanced over at her, grinning at how foolish the entire idea sounded.

Norma knitted her eyebrows together in confusion, biting her lower lip. "So, then...why didn't you play your guitar for any of them?" she asked. She didn't know why she was badgering him like this, especially on such a silly, trivial subject, but for whatever reason, she was inquisitive about it. She was getting to learn a lot about Once-Ler tonight, and now she found him even more interesting than before.

"Hmm...well, they all knew that I played guitar," he told her, looking upward as he spoke, escaping into his memories. A smile ghosted onto his features as he added, "So, instead, I decided to take up a new hobby."

Now definitely intrigued by this, Norma laughed lightly and, leaning a bit closer to him with curiosity, she pressed, "So what was it? Your new hobby. It seems like a lot of trouble to go through just to impress a few girls at school," she said, blushing faintly.

He nodded in agreement, and when he turned to face her next, she noticed that he, too, was colored a light shade of pink. It wasn't terribly bright; in fact, the only reason she was even able to see it in the dark was because they were in such close proximity to one another. He had since taken off his fedora, and now his dark hair tossed gently in the breeze blowing across the landscape. He chuckled quietly, for a moment looking a little reluctant and embarrassed to answer her. She offered him a friendly smile, hoping that he understood that she really meant no harm by her comments. Eventually, he sighed, guiding a flyaway lock of hair away from his eyes before talking again.

"Okay, don't laugh," he began. "But, during my last few years of high school, I took up...magic."

Norma's smile brightened. "Magic?" she repeated, her voice raising in pitch at the end of the word. "Well, that certainly sounds...unique!" she enthused, picturing in her mind's eye a younger version of the Once-Ler, wearing a silk top hat and pulling doves from his sleeves in front of a pack of giggling girls.

"Yeah...'unique'...'weird'...I guess they could be used interchangeably," he responded, busying himself with tuning his guitar as he spoke. A smile still played across his features, letting Norma know that she hadn't unintentionally hurt his feelings. He glanced up from his work for a moment, saying, "Jenny Woods didn't seem to think so." He broke off and chuckled, his eyes seeming to look far-off into his memories as he continued, "I studied all these books, night and day. Between working on my magic and working on perfecting my ideas for the thneed, I had hardly any time for anything else. And I don't think I really minded."

"So what happened?" she prompted eagerly, pulling her legs to her chest and wrapping her arms around her knees.

He waved her down with one hand, laughing as he replied, "I'm getting to that! Right after the part about the girl who kept interrupting the story," he continued, making his voice playfully ominous as he fixed her with a dark grin, "and was _never heard from again_."

Normally, this sort of threat would have been at least a little unnerving, especially in the dark and coming from someone she hardly knew. But the way he said it, so intentionally goofy and over-the-top, complete with the over-dramatic waving of his arms and twiddling fingers, only served to make her giggle. During the time she had spent with him this evening, she had really started to notice that he was certainly a quirky character. As silly and playful as he was, she could hardly bring herself to feel even mildly intimidated by him. Besides, she was positive that he meant his words as a joke, anyway. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked down at her, still poised with his arms outstretched in front of him in what was clearly supposed to be a 'scary' position.

"Okay, okay," she laughed, crinkling her nose as she gently swatted his hands away. "Sorry. Go ahead. I won't interrupt you anymore, I promise."

He smirked and nodded slowly. "Well, _thaaaaaaank_ you," he replied, purposefully exaggerating each syllable. When she nudged him gently, he took this as his cue to keep telling the story. "Okay, where was I? Oh, yeah. I practiced my magic for a long time, probably a few months. I learned this awesome trick to make any object appear out of thin air in the palm of my hand. Or, well, _I_thought it was pretty great, at least. But when I went to perform it in front of Jenny..." he shrugged, his face dark red as he looked up at the stars. His facial expression was still casual, his voice completely calm as he continued, "It...didn't go so well."

Norma frowned at this, knowing where the story would be going next. She felt her face flood with color, but more out of embarrassment for him than anything else. When she talked to people, she related to them on emotional levels, made herself feel what they felt. She had always been that way, ever since childhood, and it often made her a better listener than talker. Not to mention that he was very good with storytelling, as well. His words were simple, yes, but she could hear in his voice as he told the story how he truly felt about the matter. There was amusement there, of course, as he looked back on the silliness of his past; but there was also humiliation, along with the faintest tinges of regret. She waited patiently for him to finish, keeping in mind what he had said earlier about interrupting the story.

"I mean, the trick worked out exactly like it should have. I was actually really proud of it. But apparently...girls really don't think that sort of thing is cool." He laughed dryly, scratching the back of his neck as he thought for a moment. "She laughed in my face, rejected me, and then decided to tell every girl in school what a loser I was."

Norma immediately turned towards him, her mouth twisted into an angry frown. "That's horrible!" she cried, reaching over and grabbing his shoulder. "I've never understood why some girls feel the need to be cruel just to make themselves look good." She paused, heat rushing to her face as she added, "You shouldn't believe a word of what she said to you. I always hated girls like that when I went to school."

Once-Ler smiled gratefully, giving her a short nod. "Thanks," he told her. "And you don't have to worry about me; I'm not about to give up on my dream just because of a few naysayers. Besides, it's been two years since I graduated. To be honest, I had completely forgotten about it until you brought it up." He chuckled again, and Norma was glad to see that the story hadn't affected his mood significantly.

"W-well...well, good," said Norma with a vigorous nod, a little flustered from her earlier exhaustion of anger. "I'm glad. And personally, if it were me, I would have loved to have seen that trick. I'd bet it was wonderful."

"Okay, then," he replied, a sudden bright eagerness in his voice that drew her eyes back to his face. He was practically glowing with confidence, leaning towards her with an exuberant smile spreading across his face. "I can show you right now, if you want."

Norma gasped, her eyes widening by a fraction as she stared back at him. "Oh, would you?" she asked, genuinely intrigued by the idea. "That would be great!"

"Seriously?" he responded, having obviously expected a much different response from her. When she nodded eagerly, giving him a prompt to continue, he scooted a little closer to her on the horse-drawn buggy. "Well, uh, okay. If you _really_want to see it...hm. It's been a while, but it should work out alright."

She watched patiently as he concentrated for a moment, calling back long-lost memories as he tried to remember how to perform the trick. She bit back a gleeful smile, her hair tossing lightly in the breeze. The truth was, she had always been fascinated by magic tricks and things of that nature. They reminded her of her childhood, whimsical and quirky and just innocent entertainment that still managed to be thrilling at the same time. Unfortunately, she had never been very good at performing it herself. She tended to prefer being a spectator in that particular case. And perhaps, with magic tricks, being a spectator really _was _much better than the alternative. Not knowing how the trick was performed added considerably to the excitement of it all.

Norma looked on intently as he reached out with his right hand. He held it out towards her, the palm down, his fingers splayed out dramatically. "Nothing up my sleeve..." he told her, demonstrating by yanking at the baggy, worn-out shirtsleeves that fell around his skinny wrists. "Aaaaaand...ta-da!" he cried as he gave a flourish of his wrist, turning his palm up. Pinched in between his thumb and index finger was a quarter, shining brightly even in the darkness. He placed it gently in the palm of her hand, his eyes lively.

She giggled, holding the coin up to her eye level in stunned amazement. "That's amazing!" she enthused. Turning to face him next, she asked with a shake of her head, "How did you do that?"

"Ah-ah-ah," he teased, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "A magician never reveals his secrets, remember?"

Wrinkling her nose, she pushed her shoulder against his gently. "Yeah, yeah," she replied, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. "Anyway, I think that it was...kind of cute." She gave him a nod, a light dusting of pink coloring her freckled cheeks. She gave his hand an affectionate pat, smiling gently. "Those girls obviously didn't know entertainment when they saw it."

He snorted, looking skeptical. "Now you're just trying to butter me up," he accused, though the playful tone never left his voice. Norma noticed that he was blushing, too, and wondered how many times tonight they would continue taking turns with their faces turning red. "Am I right?" he asked her, eyebrows shooting upward.

"Well...maybe, just a little," she conceded, "but it depends. Are you willing to take the bait?"

Once-Ler laughed; Norma decided that she liked the sound of it, light and cheerful. "I might. Considering that what you actually have to say about me might not be so nice."

"You don't know how to take a compliment, do you?" she asked, smoothing her frizzy hair down to a more presentable level. She grinned up at him, her eyes wide with amazement. He was so humble, almost annoyingly so. She wondered for a moment if it were all possibly an act, but he seemed sincere enough in his self-conscious actions.

He shrugged simply, saying, "I don't really get them a lot. But that's okay by me; it just gives me more people to prove wrong, in the end." There was that bright optimism again, showing through in his words and making his situation seem that much easier.

Norma nodded, grinning a little. "That's a good way to think of it," she agreed. "What about your parents? They've never told you that they're proud of you?" she asked, out of mere curiosity than anything else.

Her parents had always been encouraging to her, after all, and though she knew that all families were different, surely his parents had to have at least paid him some kindness before. From what he had already told her about them, they didn't seem like the nicest people, but they couldn't have been but so terrible; he seemed like such a nice, happy young man. Too nice to come from that kind of background. Then again, she had to admit, she was fairly naïve about the world outside of her town. She felt the smallest twinge of pity for the Once-Ler, and admiration as well. He had obviously come a long way, and he deserved to be proud of his accomplishments. Or at least, she thought so, anyway.

"Ah..." he considered this for a little while, his eyes distant and faraway. "Well, not really." He broke off, then chuckled a little. "Sorry; it sounds like I'm trying to make you feel sorry for me or something. It's just...I guess they don't really take me seriously. Mom's always told me that I reminded her of Dad, and I learned growing up that maybe that wasn't such a great thing."

Norma tilted her head to the side ever so slightly. "Why?" she asked softly. Then, her face reddening, she added hastily, "I-I'm sorry if I'm getting too personal. You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"Nah, you're fine, really," he reassured her, waving his hand dismissively. He gave her a friendly grin, and Norma wondered if anything ever really troubled him. "Dad...never really stuck around." He shrugged his shoulders, as if to say, 'What can you do?'. "I never met him, but I've heard he was a real winner." There was no mistaking the sarcasm in his voice as he spoke the last sentence.

Not knowing what to say to this, the curly-haired girl patted his hand again a little awkwardly and said quietly, "Well, for what it's worth...I'm sure he would be really proud of you, Once-Ler."

"Uhm...thanks."

His voice was soft, hushed with gratitude in the darkness. She felt him tense ever so slightly under her palm, and took this as a signal that, despite his casual tone, this part of the conversation was over. She hoped that she hadn't upset him; his blue eyes were still open and friendly, but there was something about his body language that let her know that he didn't want to talk about it anymore. They both fell silent after that, though she still kept her hand on his. After a few moments passed by, she began to grow worried that the comfortable atmosphere they had built between them had crumbled. She slowly interlocked her fingers with his, giving his hand a tentative squeeze. There was a moment's pause, and then he squeezed back, a light amount of pressure that, for just the instant that it existed, gave her a warm sort of comfort.

As they continued their ride home, the darkness started troubling Norma. Having grown up in a much more urban area than this, it was more than a little unnerving, having all this open space hidden by the black night. The trees lining the path grew densely together, providing good places for animals to hide. She could hear insects clicking and buzzing, the rustle of grass as rodents scurried along the forest floor. As she looked around, her mind conjured up frightening, over-the-top images of the shadows of the trees, twisting them and turning them into demented faces staring at her with open maws of sharp teeth. It was ridiculous for her to be so afraid, especially since she walked home by herself every night in the city. But for whatever reason, the wild, raw nature around her made her feel uneasy. An animal howled in the distance, and images of wolves and hellhounds came to her mind, her overactive imagination instantly working against her. Her grip on Once-Ler's hand tightened ever so slightly.

"D-did you hear that?" she asked him, wishing that she could sound braver than she felt. She didn't want to seem like such a brainless, girly wimp in front of him. "That was a little creepy, wasn't it?" She chuckled nervously, but her hold on his hand never relaxed.

He winced, laughing a little as he glanced over at her. Amusement danced in his eyes as he answered, "Ouch, you're gonna take my hand off! Relax," he told her, a little more gently. "We're perfectly safe out here."

Still unsure of this, Norma bit her lower lip and asked, "Are you sure? They sounded pretty close to us." Well, not _that_close, but she wanted his reassurance all the same.

"Yeah, we're fine," he repeated, nodding. "I guess you city kids don't hear that kind of thing on a regular basis," he surmised, unable to keep the grin from his face. His words were teasing, yes, but not unkindly.

She shrugged her shoulders, her fingers fiddling with the end of the thneed restlessly. "Well, I'm sure we would," she began, trying to keep her tone light and conversational, "but in the city, there's always some kind of other noise to cover it up. Like the sound of cars, or people talking, sometimes even music..." her voice trailed off at the end of her sentence.

"Music?" replied Once-Ler, and Norma could practically hear the smile in his voice. "Well! That can _easily_be provided, if necessary!" Norma watched mutely as he let go of her hand, retrieving his guitar and placing it in the proper position. He smirked over at her, and, despite her anxieties, she couldn't help but grin in return. "Any requests?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "Surprise me!"

He thought on this for a moment, then gave her an enthusiastic smile. He strummed out a simple melody, and after a brief intro, started singing along. It sounded older, like some sort of folk song, though looking at Once-Ler, it didn't seem like the kind of music he would listen to. After he played through a few bars, she started recognizing the tune, realizing that she had been familiar with the song since childhood. It was one of the songs she listened to on her radio whenever she wrote in her diary, an old lullaby that, when played with the right instrument and coupled with the right voice, could comfort even the coldest heart. The melody was beautifully haunting, the lyrics coming from a dated sonnet. Despite its age, it had retained its popularity for a long time, which explained how Once-Ler knew it, and so well.

As if by instinct, she giggled and began to sing along with him, her light soprano combining with his rich tenor. She may not have looked like the type, but she had always loved music. She was positive that she didn't have a singing voice like the Once-Ler did, but she thought it was a fun, relaxing pastime, regardless. He smiled as she began singing with him, and, much to her relief, did not seem to be too taken aback by her sudden intrusion into the song. She gave him a gleeful grin in return, and soon enough, she felt all her previous nervousness melting away. For a moment, she wondered if he had done this on purpose, having known very well that the music would have distracted her. Well, no matter what his motives were, she was very grateful for it. Before she knew it, the wagon was rolling right back into town.

The two of them finished up the song as they passed by a fountain in the center of town. Her house wasn't far away, and though she wanted to get home and turn in for the night, she also wanted to stay up just a little longer and continue talking with him. She wished for a fleeting moment that the donkey would just walk a little slower, then blushed at her own actions. She loosened the thneed around her neck; either the weather was getting warmer, or all this blushing was making her own body temperature rise. When Once-Ler finished strumming the last chord on his guitar, she smiled up at him, intensely grateful.

"How did you know that song?" she laughed as he placed his guitar off to the side. "I thought I was the only one my age that had ever heard of it."

He gave her a playfully smug smirk, ruffling her hair as he answered simply, "I don't know. It's kind of always just...been around. I listened to it a lot when I was little, even though I couldn't understand what most of the lyrics meant."

She nodded in agreement. "Same for me," she said. "I've always thought that it was so pretty and mystical. It seemed like something out of a fairy tale." She paused, flushing a little as she added, "Well, thank you for playing it, anyway. I enjoyed it."

"And I enjoyed singing it with you," he responded with a polite nod, a smile playing across his features. He gave her a curious look, then said, "So, is that _your_hidden talent? Singing?"

Norma laughed lightly, shaking her head. "Oh, no," she assured him, holding her hands up in front of her. "Actually, if I were going to say that I had a hidden talent, then I suppose it would be...I don't know, playing board games. I just enjoy singing for the fun of it. But I'd never perform in front of anyone. My voice isn't that great." She paused, seeing that they were turning onto the street where she lived. Tapping his shoulder to get his attention, she said quietly, "Oh, this is my street. I can walk from here."

The wagon pulled to a stop, jumping a little as it skidded to a halt. Once-Ler helped her out of the buggy, and she smoothed out her skirt as she landed again on solid ground. She smiled up at him, giving him a small wave goodbye. He returned the gesture, and yet the wagon did not start moving again. She could sense that both of them were hesitating, not wanting to leave the other one behind. She knew deep down that she would see him again; after all, he had assured her that he was going to continue coming into town every day, working on selling his thneed. So why did she feel so reluctant to part with him? This definitely wouldn't be her last meeting; she was sure of it.

"Well...goodbye, then, Once-Ler," she told him with a short nod. "I had a lot of fun tonight. And thank you for the thneed."

"You really like it?" he asked her, eyes bright and expectant.

She giggled. "Best five dollars I've ever spent."

He chuckled, and she could see from the light of a nearby street lamp that he was blushing slightly from her compliment. Her heart swelled a little inside her chest as she looked back at him, glad that she was able to make him feel that much more confident in himself. For a moment, he looked as if he wanted to say something more to her, but then decided against it. Now that she had seen that flicker of emotion across his face, though, she was curious as to what it was that he wanted to say to her. She raised her eyebrows at him, and he gave his shoulders a light shrug, looking a little sheepish.

"And, uh, Norma?" he began, grinning. She folded her arms across her chest, waiting. "Maybe you _should_let people hear you singing more often. It's just...the way I see it...since you're so self-confident everywhere else, you shouldn't hide that one part of yourself from everyone else." He rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke, looking more like his typical goofy self as he gave her another wave goodbye. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"You bet," she promised him. "And the day after that, too. I'd like to see you a lot more often. That is, if you won't get bored with me." She broke off with a short laugh, realizing that she was blabbering. After pausing for a moment, she took a deep breath, smiled at him, and said more calmly, "I think...I really like being your friend, Once-Ler."

Laughing, he tossed his hair out of his eyes as he replied in a light, humorous voice, "Well, I've been told that I'm a real joy." The two of them chuckled quietly at this, and then she remembered how late it was getting. She hated to cut the conversation short, but she really needed to get home.

"Bye," she chirped one last time, giving him another wave before spinning around on her heel, her skirt billowing around her legs, and walking off down the street. The entire way home, she hummed the lullaby softly to herself, keeping in mind what Once-Ler had told her.

* * *

The next two months or so went by without much incident. Every day, Norma would head into town, and of course Once-Ler would be there selling his thneeds, to no avail as usual. As the days passed by and they talked to each other more, they made a habit of eating lunch in town together whenever they met. Eventually, it got to be an everyday thing, and Norma didn't really mind. Once-Ler was very good company to have on most days, even when he was feeling dejected about his business being so unsuccessful. He always seemed to feel better after their conversations with one another, and Norma had to admit, her mood was always lifted afterwards, as well. There was just something about his optimistic, energetic attitude towards life that was a breath of fresh air in comparison to the jaded attitudes of the other townsfolk.

That afternoon, Norma was heading from their usual restaurant to the library, a smile stretching onto her features. Minutes earlier, she and Once-Ler had finished eating their usual lunch together. She had wished him luck with their thneed sales, and had decided to spend the rest of her evening with the things that she loved most: books. Of course, she was certain that she had already read most of the books in the library, and the ones that she hadn't simply didn't interest her. But she was in the mood for a good story today, and she had also had something on her mind ever since visiting the Truffula Valley two months ago.

She had not been back since then, but Once-Ler often kept her up-to-date on what was going on in the forest. He was always able to provide some sort of humorous anecdote whenever they ate lunch with each other. On several occasions, Norma had nearly choked on her sandwich laughing as she listened to stories of hungry barbaloots, annoyingly high-pitched Humming Fish, and of course the legendary Lorax himself. She was dying to go back, but she didn't want to ask Once-Ler to take her again. She felt like that would be imposing too much on him, and it would be incredibly rude to just invite herself over. Especially when the Lorax was so suspicious of her already.

It so happened that the Lorax was actually what had her so troubled. Ever since meeting him two months ago, she had had the nagging feeling that she had seen him before, somewhere. And now, after spending so much time thinking about it, she had finally figured it out. There was a book in the library that she had read several times before, talking all about legends of nature. Sprites, fairies, things of that nature. Now that she had thought about it, she was absolutely positive that there had been an entire chapter about the Guardian of the Forest, a legendary creature who was supposedly the incarnation of the spirits of the trees. She wasn't entirely sure about the accuracy of the material, but she wanted to read up on it again, considering her suspicions that she had encountered the real thing.

Garden Grove Public Library was a curious little haunt, quaint and mysterious at the same time, and filled with the quirkiest, most eccentric characters. The place always smelled a little moldy, and sounds of yellowed, rustling paper always filled the otherwise-silent air. The stout little librarian at the counter gave Norma a smile when she entered the building, a rush of cool air blowing in her face. She gave the gray-haired older woman a polite wave and smiled in return before heading over to the various bookshelves, wondering where she should begin searching. She could picture the cover of the book very clearly in her mind's eye, but she couldn't remember the title at all, nor the author. Convenient.

After scanning the shelves for several minutes, Norma finally stumbled upon a thick, leather-bound volume that looked promising. Brushing her fingers along the spine, she stared at it tentatively for a moment, uncertain. The title read, "Nature's Hidden Wonders : Myths and Legends Of The Ages". She pursed her lips, trying her hardest to remember. Clutching the spine, she began to slowly take it off the shelf. It was heavier than it looked, and it nearly toppled over when she pulled it just a bit out-of-place. No sooner did she have it removed from the shelf, however, then did another hand swoop in, seemingly from out of nowhere, and snatch it from her grasp.

"H-hey!" she gasped, whirling around to see who had stolen it from her.

Immediately, a groan came to her lips as she came face-to-face with a stocky young male, his lips lifted in a confident smirk. His hair was very blonde, almost white, and hung limply around his sharp-angled face. His eyes, bright green and always glinting with a haughty sort of intelligence, were narrowed inquisitively as he gazed down at her. His skin was pale, but there was a dark red spot on his nose where the skin was starting to peel; perhaps he was recovering from sort of sunburn. He wore a freshly pressed dress shirt and black slacks, immediately making Norma feel sloppily dressed in her ensemble of a green tee-shirt and blue jeans. He held the book to the proper light, eyes wide, and he chuckled as he read the title.

"Why, Norma," said the boy, looking over the top of the book at her. "I had no idea you were interested in such...outlandish stories." He gave another chuckle, handing the book back to her.

She took the book back quickly, before he could change his mind, her cheeks growing hot. "Hello, Arthur," she greeted stiffly. This was the absolute last person she wanted to see today. Or _any _day, for that matter.

Arthur Wiggins could be considered a childhood friend. Their families had known each other through the past three generations, and had always been fairly close. When they were younger, he and Norma had loved playing together in his spacious backyard. They both had been the odd ones out of their families, the curious dreamers with minds that conjured up all sorts of stories to escape from the boredom of everyday life. Sometimes, they just sat underneath an oak tree, telling stories to one another, inventing fantastic characters and kingdoms that, to them, really existed. For the longest time, Norma had proudly called Arthur her best friend. Back when he was still the nerdy boy with glasses too big for his face. Back when he cared about more than his own reputation.

Like most things, their friendship had changed drastically with time. As they had grown older, they had discovered that their opinions on both little things and life as a whole were radically different. He had started to pretend as time went by that he and Norma had never even met; around friends, he would merely write her off as an acquaintance, an annoying little girl who always followed him around. She had started to see him for what he really was; an arrogant, pretentious man who cared more about his social status than his real friends. She wasn't about to be involved with a man like that in any way, not now or ever. Yet he still seemed content to act as though they were best friends when they weren't in the company of his country club buddies. He was impossibly thick-headed, never able to take a hint. And Norma suspected that he quite enjoyed being able to rub her the wrong way.

"It's been a long time since I last saw you," he greeted her in return, giving her a sunny smile, as if he had never insulted her in front of his entire family. "I think we were both sixteen, at least. You've grown up a lot."

Her face reddened, and suddenly she felt very self-conscious of herself. Setting her jaw stubbornly, she replied quickly, "Yes, and it looks to me like you haven't grown up at _all_." She paused for an instant, placing her hands on her hips before adding, "Now what do you mean by walking up to me and snatching my book? It's rude, you know."

Still keeping that sickly sweet smile on his face, he chuckled a little and patted her head. She flinched back from him as he said, "Just as feisty as ever. You haven't changed a bit. But I suppose you're right. I should have at least asked first."

"Yes," she agreed with a nod, using her free hand to smooth out her hair from where it had frizzed under his touch. "You should have. And I still would have said no, mind you. Now, if you have a point, Arthur, I'd appreciate it if you got to it. I've got a lot of reading to catch up on, and you're cutting into my time."

"It might come as a surprise to you, Norma," he answered, mocking the way she had said his name with such venom in her earlier sentence, "that I _do_actually have something I'd like to ask you."

She raised an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest and eyeing him skeptically. "Which is?" she prompted.

Arthur learned against the nearest bookshelf as he began with a light sigh, "Well...see, my father is _insisting_that we throw a welcoming-home party for Danny this Saturday, and...I was wondering if you might want to be my date."

Norma stared at him blankly for a moment, her jaw hanging open slightly as she mulled this over. She remembered her mother telling her briefly one morning that Daniel Wiggins, Arthur's eldest brother, had just returned from an overseas trip. He had apparently written a book of some sort, and had gone on a worldwide tour promoting it. He had not been any kinder to her than Arthur was, and she had no desire at all to welcome him home. For all she cared, he could stay wherever it was he had gone on that silly trip. She was even more taken aback at the fact that he wanted her, of all people, to be her date. She felt the color rushing to her face, her pulse pounding in her ears. It was all she could do to grit her teeth and keep from smacking him across the face and wiping that over-confident smirk away for good.

"Can I ask you just who do you think you are?" she began acidly, struggling to keep her voice to an acceptable whisper after being shushed by the librarian. Glaring up at him, she pressed on, "You don't talk to me for nearly _three_ years, and when you do, you act like I'm a five-year-old girl. When I try to hold an intelligent conversation with your friends, you pretend you don't even know me. You're rude and detestable, and I don't know whether to be infuriated with you or to find it hilarious that you think I would even _consider_being your date."

There was a long pause between the two of them; the librarian shushed Norma again, but she merely waved her hand dismissively, staring daggers up at Arthur. He looked stunned, but after a moment, his face became just as calm and collected as ever. He gave an amused laugh, smirking haughtily, and Norma prepared herself to launch into another heated monologue. She sneered up at him, wondering how on earth she ever could have called someone like him her best friend. How innocent childhood was, and how blind it made one. She irritably brushed a lock of curly hair out of her eyes, waiting for a response from him.

He shrugged his shoulders, appearing as though her words hadn't really had much of an effect on him. "I thought that, since we haven't seen each other in so long, it would be a good opportunity to get to know each other a bit better."

The answer seemed so innocent, so sensible, that it surprised her. She blinked, staring mutely up at him, wishing she was tall enough to look him in the eyes without having to stand on her tiptoes. This time, it was her turn to lift her shoulders in a careless shrug. She supposed he was telling the truth, which was unsettling enough. She had already told him as straight as she could manage that she wasn't interested, but he clearly wasn't going to take a plain 'no' for an answer. She had to think of a way to worm out of this, and quickly. She had always been good at lying; as much as she hated to do it to her family, she had no problem at all doing it to Arthur. She flushed lightly, thinking of the quickest excuse to get out of an unwanted date.

"A-anyway, Arthur," she began again, flinching a little when she heard the shakiness in her voice, "as _great_as that sounds, I'm going to have to turn you down. Y-you see, I can't be your date. I...I already have a boyfriend."

His eyebrows shot upward quickly, and he scoffed in disbelief. "Really?" he asked, sounding doubtful of her story. "I had no idea, Norma. I didn't think that sort of thing interested you."

_Then why did you ask me on a date, you jackass?_she thought critically. Rather than voice this opinion, however, she instead said, "Uh, yeah. Well, I _am_ interested in it, actually. And I don't think my boyfriend would appreciate you taking me out to parties like that."

He cracked a grin, nodding in supposed understanding. "Okay, I get it," he said, feigned defeat in his voice. "So," he asked after a moment's hesitation, "who's the lucky guy?"

Her face turned bright scarlet, nearly matching the red cover of the book she was holding. She scrambled for an answer, blurting out the first name, the first face that came to her mind: "O-Once-Ler. That's my boyfriend's name."

Arthur blinked silently, apparently impressed by this response. "Once-Ler?" he questioned. "What kind of a name is that?" He paused, obviously waiting for laughter, and when there was none from Norma, his own chuckling died down and he cleared his throat. "Well, then. You're a friend of the family. I'm sure my dad wouldn't mind if you brought Once-Ler along as your date."

If she could look more embarrassed, Norma definitely would have. She was caught in her lie now, she was certain. She would be caught either way; if she showed up to Arthur's stupid party without a date, then he would know she was lying. If she made up some excuse as to why Once-Ler couldn't come along with her, then he would only be even more certain of the fact that she had just made the whole thing up. No, this would require her to actually perform the humiliating-beyond-belief task of walking right up to the Once-Ler, admitting that she had used his name in a petty lie, and asking him on a pretend-date. It was as if she were back in the sixth grade again. She was ashamed of her actions, but she couldn't go back on them now.

"U-uh...sure, sure!" she said, forcing a smile onto her face as she struggled to regain her composure. The expression on her face felt plastic and incredibly fake as she added quickly, "I'm sure he would love that."

Rather than give her a response to this, Arthur consulted his expensive-looking wristwatch with a soft sigh. Raising his blonde eyebrows, he turned his eyes back to her and said briskly, "Where does the time go? I'd love to stick around, Norma, but I'm afraid I really must be going." He patted her lightly on the shoulder, and she immediately pulled away from him. "I guess we'll see each other again on Saturday! I look forward to meeting this...Once-Ler."

"I guess we will," she agreed stubbornly, not about to let him call her on her bluff just yet. Hands on her hips, she nodded at him and added, "Goodbye, Arthur."

He chuckled, waving to her and replying, "'Bye, Norma," as he walked for the door.

She stared after him for a long while, her mouth hanging open with disbelief at what had just happened. This could _not_be real. A slow blush colored her face as she clutched tightly onto her book.

Well, there was nothing left to do now but find Once-Ler and tell him the entire truth of what had happened. Or maybe she could embellish it, just a little. Guilt weighing heavily down onto her shoulders, she frowned to herself as she put the book back on the shelf. Her reading would have to wait.

Right now, she had another mission to accomplish.


	8. Chapter Eight: Coming To An Agreement

"Come on, people! It's been two months! Would it kill you to at least _look _at me when I sing to you?"

Once-Ler sighed heavily, knowing that his desperate pleas for attention were in vain. He was positive that he had spoken the same words to the same crowd just last week, and they had given him the same indifferent response both times. He was still trying his best to remain unfailingly optimistic about his thneeds, but after such a long amount of time, it was beginning to get difficult to keep the smile on his face. He was starting to feel the strain of his work on his shoulders, and to make it worse, his mother hadn't responded to any of his letters over the past two months. He hadn't wanted to seem clingy or desperate for attention, but he was starting to get impatient. He had figured that she wouldn't reply to any of them - in fact, he was almost certain that she had promptly thrown them in the paper shredder upon receiving them in the mail - but it still hurt all the same.

Despite what anyone else said to him, though, Norma was always there to give him encouragement. When they met up for lunch every day, discussing his work, her family, and just life as a whole, she always had something wise to say about keeping optimistic. She would remind him that it was a good thing to have goals, and that with enough persistence he would surely find himself successful one day. Then again, perhaps she was only saying what he wanted to hear. She was an intelligent girl, levelheaded and down-to-earth, and had always been very realistic when talking about her own dreams for the future. It was a little strange to him that she was so wholeheartedly urging him forward, especially given his past relationship with his family. They had only ever brought him down, never content to let him be happy. It was a refreshing change of pace to be complimented and, well..._believed in_for a change.

Turning to Melvin, he shrugged his shoulders and slowly took the thneed from around his neck, draping it over the mule's saddle. "Tough crowd," he muttered, tugging the brim of his fedora downwards absently. "Oh, well. Sooner or later, they're gonna have to at least acknowledge me. They can't pretend I'm not here forever."

Though that certainly seemed to be the case. The only person he had seen in town that had actually given him any attention was Norma, and though she was a good friend by now and had been his first real customer, he definitely couldn't rely on one person for success. He just had to keep trying, no matter how impossible the task ahead of him seemed. It was that kind of positive thinking that had served to get him this far, after all, and though it was proving difficult recently to keep up that same optimism, he did his best to grin and bear it. He would not give his family the satisfaction of seeing him fail; not when he had already worked so hard, assured them that he would become a success and show them all.

Strumming another quick chord on his guitar, he leaned against one of the columns of the gazebo, staring absently as a spider spun itself a web in the right-hand corner of the roof he stood under. He played his jingle again for what seemed like the millionth time, and he hummed along the song's melody, though it was more to himself than to any specific audience. He was seriously considering just going home early today; his heart just wasn't in the music that he was playing. Even after having lunch with Norma, which usually left him ridiculously chipper, he just couldn't bring himself up to that usual level of energy.

Perhaps it was the strange nightmare that he had had last night that had caused him to be so drained. After all, he was always very sensitive about how much sleep he got. If he didn't get just the right amount of rest every night, he would become decidedly easier to set on edge the next day. While most of the time he managed to keep up a bright, sunny attitude towards life, there were the occasional days when another sharper, more sarcastic side to his personality would show through. He didn't particularly like that side of himself, and normally did a good job of keeping it hidden. He liked getting along with people, though he certainly wasn't afraid to stand up for his beliefs and follow his dreams.

Maybe it wasn't the lack of sleep, but the actual content of the nightmares itself that had him so off his game today. After all, it had been particularly disturbing, odd for someone who hardly ever remembered the dreams he had at night, anyway. He had been strolling through the Truffula Valley - or, at least, he assumed that was where it was, for nowhere else had those trees - but it didn't look at all like the beautiful Eden that he knew. It had been a dark, desolate environment, the sky practically purple with a thick, heavy smoke that made it difficult to breathe. All the trees had stood still in their glory, but the tufts had turned from their vibrant shades of pink to pitch-black. In fact, the entire valley had been black, as if someone had poured a giant ink well over the landscape. He had strolled over to a nearby Truffula tree, preparing to chop one down to use the tufts for thneeds. But when the sharp side of his axe had struck into the trunk of the tree, a loud, high-pitched screaming had filled his ears. The _tree _had been screaming.

He had forced himself to wake up not long after that. Though it had been early that morning when he awoke, he hadn't been able to get back to sleep. The nightmare hadn't been that gruesome as far as scary monsters or other horror-movie clichés, but it had unsettled him. Made him question the use of the tufts for his thneeds. As he had gone about his normal morning routine, though, he had cleared his mind of all those troubling thoughts. Or he had thought so, at least. Even now, as he stood under the gazebo and watched all the townspeople pass him by, he wasn't able to usher the chilling memories out of his mind.

With a soft sigh, he tilted his head back against the column, closing his eyes with exhaustion. Just as he finished playing the song, he heard someone in the distance calling his name. But he had just seen her not an hour ago. Why would she be coming back already?

"Once-Ler! Over here!"

Yet, sure enough, that was her voice, so he slowly opened his eyes and lifted his head, glancing around curiously. Finally, his eyes fell upon her as she rushed into the gazebo, her hair wildly frizzy, her face red. Her eyes were wide behind her glasses, and to say the look on her face was "flustered" would be an extreme understatement. Tugging absently at the hem of her green tee-shirt, she gave him a nervous grin, obviously sensing his confusion as to why she would be back so soon.

"Hey," he greeted with a wave as he strode over to her, the inquisitive look never leaving his face. "We seem to be seeing a lot of each other today, huh?" He smiled at this, chuckling lightly.

She giggled, nodding in agreement as she tucked a curly lock of hair behind her ear. "Y-yeah, I guess so," she replied. She looked up at him, giving him an awkward little shrug before saying, "Actually...I-I have something, um..._interesting_to tell you."

Raising his eyebrows, he placed his hands on his hips, tilting his head to the side slightly. There was no mistaking the nervous tone in her voice, and that only heightened his suspicions. What could she possibly have to tell him that she had simply forgotten at their lunch together? It looked too important for to have just neglected to mention. Once-Ler cleared his throat, feeling a faint pink blush color his nose and cheeks. Suddenly, he was very reluctant to hear any 'interesting' news that she might have in store for him. Shuffling his feet nervously, he chewed his lower lip and considered for a moment what he wanted to say next.

"U-uh...well, good-interesting or bad-interesting?" he prompted, trying his best to ignore the uneasy note in his own voice.

She shrugged her shoulders, a thoughtful expression on her face as she sighed and admitted, "I-I guess it depends on your interpretation of the word 'interesting'." She looked up at him sheepishly, her glasses slightly askew on the bridge of her nose.

He nodded his head, trying to convince her to go on with her story. He attempted to ignore the rapid thumping of his heart, telling himself quietly that he was merely making a big deal out of something little. This was not a problem. If it were a problem, then Norma certainly would have been a little more upset. Wouldn't she? He had to admit, he was curious to hear what it was that had made her so tense. In the time that he had gotten to know Norma better, he had learned that she very rarely allowed herself to get irrationally upset about anything. When she _did_get angry, though, she certainly did not hold back, and always let Once-Ler know precisely what was on her mind. Today, though, she seemed so reluctant and secretive. What was going on here?

"Okay, well, I'll try to be open-minded," he conceded, laughing lightly to conceal his uncertainties about the conversation. He took her hand, gesturing over to a nearby bench. "We can go sit down, if you want," he suggested, taking into mind that she looked rather uneasy. He really didn't know how to deal with swooning women.

She nodded, and the two of them headed over to the bench together. She sat down with an unceremonious thud, and Once-Ler sunk into the space next to her, stretching his long legs out in front of him and crossing his ankles casually. He turned to her, raising his eyebrows expectantly, his blue eyes dancing with intrigue. She bit her lower lip hesitantly for a moment, then nodded her head, encouraging herself to go on. He waited patiently for her to start talking, not knowing what else there would be to say to her, regardless. Brushing a lock of hair out of her face with a soft sigh, she finally looked up at him, a regretful expression etched all over her features.

"Once-Ler," she began quietly, kneading her hands restlessly in her lap, "I think I might have gotten you into a really complicated situation. It's not your fault, I just...said something without thinking, and now...I need your help." He blinked mutely back at her, and she pushed forward with what she needed to say, prompted by the silence between them. "There's this...well, I _guess_you could call him a friend of mine...Arthur Wiggins, but he and I never really see eye-to-eye. A-anyway, we ran into each other at the library just now, and he, um, asked me on a d-date."

Giving an uncertain little chuckle, Once-Ler cracked his knuckles restlessly and responded, "Well, I hope you're not asking my advice on fashion or anything like that, because I obviously wouldn't be much help. Ehehe. I just throw on whatever fits and whatever's comfortable."

"O-oh, no, it's not that," she insisted, shaking her head quickly and holding up her hands. If he wasn't mistaken, the blush on her face grew even darker as she added, "Actually, um...to avoid the date...I told him that I already had a boyfriend. I-I lied and told him that..._you_were my boyfriend. And then he invited us to go to some party he's having at his house on Saturday. I-I told him that...that we would be able to go." She looked up at him from under her eyelashes, shame and humiliation written all over her face and shining in her eyes.

His eyes grew wider at this statement, the color draining from his face. His shoulders tensed a little where he sat, and he furrowed his brow, shaking his head slightly in extreme confusion. "Y-you _what_?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. "Why did you tell him _that_?"

She sighed with frustration, clapping a hand to her forehead and ducking her head down as she replied, blushing darkly, "I-I don't know! I guess it was just because yours was the first name that came to mind." Slowly lowering her hand, she looked back up at him sheepishly and muttered, "I hope you're not too mad at me."

Once-Ler remained silent, taking a moment to allow himself to mull over this new information. This was certainly something that had never happened to him before, so he wasn't entirely sure how to best approach the situation. Norma was a close friend to him, after all, and it was clear from her behavior that she really did feel guilty and embarrassed for using his name in a lie. As a child, he had been used as his mother's scapegoat all the time; during his teen years, he had gotten smart enough to be able to call her out on it, but he soon had learned that it was useless to do so. She had merely given him that same sickly sweet smile and made up some excuse from her actions, and then had dropped the subject just like that. Not Norma. Norma was sincere, kind, and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she had merely used his name accidentally.

Still, this was definitely perplexing. Even if he _did_ assure her that he was not angry with her, what did she want _him_to do about the situation? He didn't know this guy that Norma was talking about, so he couldn't just march up to him and tell him the truth. Besides, he thought that Norma was quite capable of handling him on her own. Then again, if that was the case, why on earth would she have come to him with this problem? He was hardly the one to go to if confrontation was required, and especially over something like romance. He was fairly inexperienced in that area, and doubted if he would be much help in settling things for her if she requested it of him.

Finally, he shook his head, his voice breathless with surprise as he responded, "N-no, I'm not mad. Don't worry about it. I'm just, uh, _really_ confused here. Why are you telling me all this?" He snorted a little, rolling his eyes good-naturedly as he laughed, "It's not like we're actually gonna _go_." He waited a moment for her laughter, as well, but when she kept looking at him with that unswervingly serious expression, he cringed a little and added, his voice cracking up an octave in pitch, "R-right?"

She took a deep breath, clamping her lips together and remaining quiet for a moment. "That's," she began again at last, "where it gets interesting."

"O-oh, great," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he pushed a hand through his hair. Raising his eyebrows, he gave her a curious look and said, "What are you implying here, Norma?"

Shrugging her shoulders and giving a nervous little laugh, Norma asked quietly, "Well, um...how good is your acting?"

"W-well, I don't know...I did a little drama in high school, but not seriously!" he sputtered, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. His eyes, at this point, were the size of saucepans, his hair disheveled from how many times he had raked his fingers through his bangs. "A-and anyway, what're you suggesting? That we actually _go_and pretend to be a couple? Just so you can get away with a lie?"

Blushing heavily, Norma cleared her throat and gave a short, barely detectable nod. "I thought that might work...o-only if you feel comfortable with it, though! I-I mean, I'm not going to force you to go through with this. After all, I was the one who dragged you into this mess. I should clean up after myself, instead of getting my friends to take responsibility."

Just as he was about to agree with her statements, however, a thought occurred to him. Maybe this party would give him a brand-new opportunity to advertise the thneed to a wider audience. Surely someone there would be at least one person there that would show interest in his invention. Or perhaps, if he played his cards right, he could find someone who just might be intoxicated enough to listen to his ideas for more than a few seconds before leaving him behind. This would be an excellent chance to really jump-start his career, he had to admit.

And not only that, but the thought of attending a party with Norma, even as just friends, certainly intrigued him. He thought that it would be nice to have the chance to see her in a different light; surely, she behaved differently in front of her family and close friends than she did around him. Not that they weren't close after all this time together, but still, there had to be some people who knew her better than he did. For example, this Wiggins person. From the way that Norma talked about him, he didn't seem like someone who was particularly likeable, but they undeniably had history together. Once-Ler had never really seen Norma interact with people other than himself before, and so he was curious to learn a little more about her own life in town. He was positive that it would be interesting to find out.

"You know what?" Once-Ler said after a short pause, lifting his forefinger and wagging it as he smiled and presented his little idea to her. "Actually...this _could_work out to our advantage, Norma!"

She blinked, her brow furrowing with confusion. "It could? How do you figure that?"

Flailing his hands in the air, out of both mere force of habit and perhaps for dramatic effect, he answered quickly, "W-well, because! Don't you see? At a party, there'll be plenty of people to advertise my invention to! With such a comfortable environment, maybe they'll be a little _nicer_ to me. And then when we actually show up to the party _together_...well, then, this Wiggins guy will take a hint and leave you alone! It's a win-win all around!"

He watched intently as Norma considered this, a thoughtful expression on her face. Pushing her glasses upwards on the bridge of her nose, she nodded her head slowly, hopefully in approval with his plan. An excited grin tugged at his lips as he stared down at her, wondering what she would have to say about his proposal. He had to admit, the idea certainly had merit. It couldn't hurt to at least try! Or was he merely being too optimistic? He had a habit of thinking that way, after all, and it was hard to shake. He tilted his head to the side slightly as the silence began to drag on for a while. He hoped that he hadn't offended her with his words. He had really meant no harm by his suggestion.

"Hm...well, Once-Ler," said Norma, looking up after what seemed like an eternity and giving him a sunny smile. "I think that this plan of yours...might just work! The party starts at eight o'clock. You could come pick me up at my house, or we could just meet here, if you like." She paused, then shook her head, not even giving him enough time to answer. "You know what? I like that idea better. Let's just meet up at the gazebo. Okay?"

He quirked an eyebrow, wondering why she changed her mind so quickly, but after a moment, he nodded as well. The excitement shone clearly in his eyes as the two of them shared a quick laugh before he nodded, practically bouncing where he stood as he replied, "Okay, sounds great to me!" He patted her affectionately on the shoulder, practically radiating energy and optimism. "You know what? I-I'm actually..._kinda _looking forward to this!"

Norma giggled, pushing her slender fingers through her wild curls. "Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see how I feel about it. I've never really been much of a partier," she confessed with a sheepish grin.

"O-oh...oh, neither have I!" Once-Ler admitted, blushing lightly. He rubbed the back of his neck as he continued, his voice filled with amusement, "I never really tended to make the invite list, you know. But that's okay by me. I think most of the people who threw those parties in my high school were bad news." His voice trailed off, his eyes going to his feet for an instant before he looked back up at her with a bright grin. "But who knows? Maybe if we're lucky, we'll give the party some much-needed liveliness!"

"Maybe so," agreed Norma, nodding and giving another light laugh. "Actually, you're probably right about that. Arthur's dad has never really thrown the best parties. I-I've only been to one other one before, and that was when I was six...s-so maybe it'll be better." She bit her lower lip and shrugged tentatively.

Once-Ler laughed, pushing his fedora back slightly on his head as he replied, "Well, I'll find a way to make it interesting, anyway. You can count on me for that!" He smiled proudly, tugging on his raggedy vest and nodding his head assuredly.

Wrinkling her nose and giggling again, she responded, "I'm sure I can."

She beamed up at him for a moment, though the look in her eyes seemed to suggest that she was contemplating something. Just as he was about to ask her what was on her mind, though, she pushed herself forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. She was several inches shorter than him, so her head leaned against his chest as she hugged him. He jumped with surprise as she threw her arms around his midsection, staring down at her with shock and confusion written all over his features. After several seconds, he returned the hug, patting her on the back somewhat awkwardly.

"Thank you for helping me out with this, Once-Ler," she said, her tone light and gentle. "I really appreciate it. Especially when I'm the one who dragged you into this childish mess in the first place."

He smiled sheepishly, giving his shoulders the slightest shrug as he laughed quietly and said, "H-hey, don't worry about it. It's not like I have anything better to do. Sit at home, play guitar, knit...crashing a party sounds _waaaaaay _more interesting." The grin on his face grew wider as he spoke, excitement bursting forth in his eyes. Pulling away gently from the embrace, he patted her lightly on the shoulder and nodded his head. "Anyway, don't worry about a thing. I'm sure that we can handle this."

"Y-you're right," conceded Norma, nodding her head vigorously in agreement. "A little optimism never hurt anyone!" Nudging Once-Ler playfully, she added with a lighthearted giggle, "Okay, then. I guess I'll see you then."

"Yep," he responded with a smile, squaring his shoulders and chuckling. "Looking forward to it, _girlfriend_," he added teasingly, reaching over and ruffling her hair playfully.

Norma let out a high-pitched little yelp of surprise as he tousled her hair, her hands immediately flying upward to fix the frizzes. She giggled, looking back up at him and winking jokingly. "Me too, _boyfriend_," she mimicked, giving him one last gentle nudge and an excited wave before turning on her heel and walking off in the opposite direction.

Once-Ler smiled to himself as he watched her striding briskly away, turning around and heading towards his wagon. The entire way home, it was hard to fight the blush coloring his features.


	9. Chapter Nine: Ground Rules

Saturday rolled around much more quickly than Norma had originally anticipated.

The rest of the week passed by in a complete blur, especially since she was dreading the arrival of the weekend. She tried to find ways to make the days last longer, but none of her procrastination methods ever seemed to work. She supposed that she was just always so active in her everyday life, either walking to the library for some afternoon reading or busy running some other errand, just sitting down and relaxing at home was difficult for her to accomplish. Still, no matter how much she insisted on just lying around and enjoying the remainder of her week, trying to lift her spirits was much easier said than done.

She tried her hardest not to think about the approaching party on Saturday, but despite her best efforts, the thought would not stop bothering her. Of course, Once-Ler was a very close friend to her, so she was not particularly disturbed by the idea of having to attend the party with him. Honestly, she wasn't even all that concerned with the fact that they would have to pretend to be a couple. She was certain that he would be a complete gentleman towards her, and the possibility of advances towards her were actually the least of her worries. In fact, her main concern was over her own acting abilities. Sure, it couldn't be that much different from getting away with one huge fib, and she was normally very crafty with that. But what if the nervousness of the situation caused her to completely slip up?

In those moments when she began feeling so apprehensive about it, though, she reminded herself how optimistic Once-Ler always was. Even when faced with a horde of snobby, grumbling townsfolk, he still played the same cheerful tunes with a smile on his face, because he believed that one day he would make something of himself. Frankly, Norma believed it, as well. She only wished that she could have his unfailing hope, his firm belief in himself. Maybe then she wouldn't be so quick to give up on herself. Sure, what they were doing was low and underhanded, a complete lie to people who had once been very close to her heart. But she had already dragged Once-Ler into this mess, and was determined to see their plan through. She just had to keep her chin up for a while longer.

Well, that was much easier said than done, unfortunately. Especially when her sister kept near-constant watch over her throughout the following week after learning that she would be attending the party with the oh-so-mysterious Once-Ler. Jean was positively ecstatic that Norma had finally found herself a boyfriend; her older sister had conveniently forgotten to mention the fact that they were merely _pretending_to be a couple for a night. Not only was she trying to avoid the mocking from her younger sibling, but she also thought it would perhaps help steel her emotions if she had a little more practice on the lie before they really needed it to work. So she had managed to keep her mouth shut, no matter how annoying and irksome Jean's sing-song little comments had become, until Saturday finally arrived.

Norma stared distastefully back at her reflection in the bathroom mirror that evening, trying to decide what on earth to do with her hair. She had never attended a party like this one, and didn't even have the slightest clue how to dress. She had gone with a modest, light green dress and a white sweater, not too formal, but not too casual, either. It seemed like the sort of thing that Arthur's parents would approve of, and really, that was the whole purpose behind this party even existing in the first place, anyway. Still, her hair was being its usual frizzy, unruly self, and while she normally wouldn't have given a second thought to it, suddenly it was her life's mission to get it to lie down flat. Whether it was to impress the Once-Ler, Arthur, or just because she finally _had_an excuse to shake things up a bit, she kept glancing over to the straightening iron resting on the countertop. It was certainly a tempting idea...

"You're _still _in here? Geez, I thought you were finished at least an hour ago."

Norma jumped at the sudden intrusion, spinning around to face Jean standing in the doorway, looking, if possible, both surprised and smug at the same time. Her hair, naturally straight and smooth, just like their mother's, fanned gracefully outwards as she strode quickly into the room, standing next to Norma with a thoughtful look. She held her sister's gaze for a while, looking as if she were thinking over a particularly difficult math equation. The curly-haired girl tilted her head to the side with a slightly embarrassed scoff, her cheeks flushing indignantly. She didn't really care for the way that her sister was eyeing her so critically.

"Wh-what are you staring at, Jean?" she asked, ignoring the wildly varying pitches that her voice took as a defensive tone crawled underneath her words.

Smiling broadly, Jean giggled and answered excitedly, "Well, I'm going to style your hair for your date tonight!"

Norma blinked mutely, furrowing her brow with confusion. "Wait a minute, what? I'm going to entrust the safety of my hairstyle to a thirteen-year-old?"

Without hesitation, Jean nodded and replied, "Yep! Don't you worry, I'm great with this stuff!" She giggled enthusiastically, reaching out to fluff her sister's hair as she added, "Mom lets me style her hair all the time, you know."

"Sh-she does?" Norma found this hard to believe. Out of all of her physical traits, Mrs. Harlow was most proud of her hair. Was Jean really such a talented stylist that even such a sophisticated dresser like their mother would trust her to do a good job with her hair? Well, she supposed there was nothing to lose. After all, it was only one party, and if it didn't work out exactly like she planned, then she had plenty of pretty sun hats that would match her dresses until she was able to fix her hair again. "Um..." she bit her lower lip in hesitation for a moment, wringing her hands nervously before saying, "well, I don't see why not. Go ahead. Work your _magic_."

"Yay!" Clapping her hands enthusiastically, Jean skipped over to Norma's side, grabbing her shoulders and steering her to face the mirror. Smiling back at their reflections, she giggled and chirped brightly, "You know what? Your curls are so pretty. I wish I had your curly hair."

Norma saw her face turn light pink at this compliment, her eyes widening ever so slightly behind her circular glasses. She smiled sheepishly, giving her shoulders a slight shrug. "They're a mess to take care of, you know," she advised. "They get tangled much too easily, and then they get in the way of my face when I try to walk in breezy weather..." her voice trailed off and she tilted her head to the side thoughtfully, running her fingers slowly through her chestnut ringlets. "I guess we all want things that we can't have sometimes." Upon noticing how solemn and serious this statement was, however, she snapped out of her sudden change in mood, quickly plastering a smile on her face and turning to her sister with a nod. "Well, anyway. Let's get started on my makeover, shall we?"

Hardly even noticing her sister's change in attitude, Jean's face lit up in a 100-watt smile, her eyes glowing with a sort of confidence and enthusiasm that Norma had not seen on her younger sibling's face in a long time. "You're right! We've got to get to work if you're going to meet up with ol' Oncie at the gazebo on time." She dropped an eyelid in a playful wink, giggling brightly.

Norma sighed, nudging Jean gently and rolling her eyes. "I _told_ you not to call him that," she admonished, though it was hard for her to keep the light note of amusement out of her voice as she spoke. "If he's asked _me_not to call him that, then I expect you to follow the same rules. Especially since you don't even know him." As hard as she tried, she was unable to keep a small laugh from escaping her lips, knowing that with the party quickly approaching, she would not be able to keep a straight face. Nervousness tended to make her giggly and giddy. She had better get the laughs out now before she got to the party.

One of the things that she had learned about the Once-Ler during the months that had passed and strengthened their friendship was that he disliked the nickname "Oncie". She had tried referring to him by it once one afternoon while eating lunch with him, and the immediate change in his personality was evident. It hadn't upset him enough to completely ruin the innocent, joyful atmosphere between the two of them, and it obviously hadn't harmed their friendship any, but it still left her curious. When she had stammered a quick apology and returned to eating her sandwich quietly, he had explained that the nickname merely had bad connotations for him, and that he much preferred being called his real name. Not that Norma had a problem with this. It hadn't seriously turned their conversation sour or ruined the mood, so she was willing to just accept it and let it go. She would have to keep that information in mind tonight at the party, just in case it ever came up in conversation.

Norma watched her younger sister suspiciously as she plugged in the flat-iron, allowing it to heat up properly. Drawing herself out of her thoughts and anxieties about later that night, she chewed her lower lip and, gesturing with her index finger, asked quietly, "What're you doing with that thing? I haven't used it in the longest time."

"What does it look like I'm doing? Geometry?" Jean scoffed, rolling her eyes before giving her sister a smirk of amusement. "I'm gonna straighten your hair out, Norma! You wear it curly _all_ the time. I thought it would be cute if you wore it a little differently tonight. It _is _a special occasion, after all." She swatted her sister playfully, wrinkling her nose gently.

Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, she forced herself to not blurt out that they were only friends. She had to practice their lie now, while she still had room to mess up. Instead, she sighed so heavily that her shoulders moved slightly upward from the gesture, fixing her eyes on her reflection in the mirror as she responded, "Well, as much as I appreciate how much you care, Jean, it's not like we're going to be married or anything. It's just one date. How is this one any different from any date I've been on in the past?"

Jean snickered, biting her lower lip and hesitating for a moment. Finally, she tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear and replied softly, "Because you look happy about this one. Genuinely _happy_. And I want to make sure that my older sister looks her best for her new man!" The grin on her face grew even wider at this and she glanced over her shoulder at the flat-iron. Drumming her fingers restlessly on the counter, she sighed and mumbled, "It should only be a few more minutes now. This thing is always so slow to heat up."

Norma hardly even heard her sister's grumbling about the flat-iron, however. Instead, she was mulling over the thirteen-year-old's previous statement, about how happy she seemed to be over the date. But how could that be? It was just a pretend date, after all. She and Once-Ler were merely good friends, two people who understood each other and shared a common bond. There had never been any romantic tension between them in the past, apart from the occasional brush of the hand or moments when they would just catch each other staring into one another's eyes. Those were just little things, insignificant moments in a long friendship that shouldn't have influenced their relationship at all. As nervous as she was about going through with their plan, how could she even have room in her heart to feel happy about the situation? She felt humiliated for dragging the Once-Ler into her problem to begin with, and was lucky that he was nice enough to help her out. She was sure that not a lot of people would do the same. Norma herself might not have even done the same if Once-Ler had been put in her place. Humiliated, but happy? Was that possible?

Not that the Once-Ler wasn't attractive enough for her interests. On the contrary, she found him to be quite handsome, in a humble sort of way that again greatly contrasted his larger-than-life ambitions. And he was certainly interesting enough, a kindred spirit in a town filled with people who hated change. Norma identified with him in ways that she couldn't even with her own family. He had dreams for his future, just like Norma too wanted much more than just what her town offered her. There was life outside her community, and she wanted to see it all. Once-Ler was the only one she could really talk to about that who would actually listen to what she had to say and provide his own input. He was funny, in his own goofball manner, but also intelligent, undeniably creative. And sure, during the months that they had known each other, she had caught herself noticing different things about him, little things that shouldn't matter, like how he bounced his right leg when he was sitting down and restless, or how he never seemed to be able to put his hands down when he was talking. But all those factors didn't necessarily mean that he was suddenly her new romantic interest, not at all. Right?

Norma jumped as all of a sudden, a thick lock of her hair was being yanked with two hot plates. As the steam rose to the air in graceful curls, she realized that she had been so caught up in her thoughts about the Once-Ler that she hadn't even noticed that Jean had started to flat-iron her hair. She saw through the mirror that her cheeks were turning dark red, made even more obvious by the flaming hot sensation against her skin. That definitely wasn't a good sign. Promising herself that she would not lose herself in her thoughts like that - especially about such a close friend - again, she sighed and watched intently as her sister worked in the silence.

"Don't jump like that, Norma, or I might burn you on accident," advised Jean, her voice calm and level, her eyes filled with concentration as she took another lock of Norma's hair in between her fingers and ran it through with the straightener. "I can't tell you how many times I've burnt myself handling one of these things."

"O-okay, _sorry_," replied Norma, twiddling her fingers in the air over-dramatically before resting her hands on her thighs again, remaining as still as she could possibly manage without going over-the-top about it.

She had to admit, despite her misgivings about straightening her hair, once the task was finished, she couldn't tear her awed gaze away from the mirror. Jean had really done an excellent job with it, especially considering that on most days, it was hard to just keep the curls from getting unruly; she had never really been able to rid her hair of all its tangles, but now she looked entirely different. Her hair was sleek and smooth, and when she ran her fingers across it gently, it was soft, rather than wild and thick. It looked much longer now, too; where it had originally laid around shoulder-length, it now stopped at least two inches farther down her back. Norma gave an awed little laugh, a broad grin stretching across her features as she turned to face Jean.

"I-I look...I look...oh, thank you, Jean!" she cried gleefully, trying to refrain from jumping up and down where she stood. Instead, she clutched her younger sister by the shoulders excitedly as she enthused, "R-really, I can hardly believe you've gotten it to lie down! My hair is so stubborn, I-I thought it wouldn't work!" Without another moment's hesitation, she threw her arms around her sister in a tight hug.

"A-ack! Norma! I can't breathe!" Jean giggled, her face reddening slightly as she returned her sister's embrace. Norma felt her heart twist a little as she clung to her younger sister, knowing that it had certainly been a while since they had last shared such a sweet moment together. Most of the time, they were too busy being sarcastic with one another to even bother outright displaying their love for one another. She held the hug for a few more seconds before slowly pulling away, patting Jean affectionately on the shoulder. "Y-you're welcome, Norma," Jean stammered, still a little flustered from the hug. "It was no trouble, really."

Norma giggled, kneading her hands together restlessly as she replied, "I guess you proved me wrong. I _can_trust you with my hair." She blushed a little, nodding her head shortly before remembering that she still had to finish getting ready for the party. "Oh! I should probably hurry up. I don't want to be late."

There was that enthusiasm again, she realized, making herself wonder again why she was so eager. She loved spending time with the Once-Ler, of course, but shouldn't she be more nervous about an entire night of lying? Well, she supposed not. She was still allowed to have fun, wasn't she? After all, he was certainly much better company than Arthur. It would be something fun for both of them to do...as friends. Only friends. They deserved to be able to enjoy themselves! It _was _a party, after all, and it wasn't as if this were some top-secret spy mission. If they got called out on their lie, it would be embarrassing, yes, but other than that, there wasn't much at risk. Norma sighed and nodded to herself as she got dressed, reminding herself to just loosen up, relax, and have some fun.

After she had finished dressing, she headed back to the bathroom to check her reflection one last time. Never had she cared so much about her physical appearance before, she realized. Of course, she always wanted to look nice, rather than downright slobby. But this was an entirely different level. Perhaps her new hairstyle was giving her more confidence. Or what she thought was confidence and was actually vanity in disguise. Whatever the reason, she appreciated how relaxed it was making her. She was actually looking forward to getting to see the Once-Ler tonight, and for a fleeting instant, wondered what he would think of her hair. She blushed heavily as this thought entered her mind, clearing her throat and glancing quickly away from her reflection. Why on earth would she suddenly care what the Once-Ler thought of her looks?

Slowly, she lifted her eyes back to her reflection, scoffing and shrugging, a smile growing on her face. "Now you're just being silly, Norma," she told the girl staring back at her in the mirror, wagging her finger reproachfully. "You're letting Jean get to you too much."

Nodding firmly to support her claims, she set her jaw stubbornly, smoothing out her skirt before turning swiftly on her heel and heading out of the house, this time more than ready to face the task ahead.

* * *

The sky was just turning to a mellow dusk when Once-Ler finally met up with Norma at the gazebo. He had arrived early, and was content to wait for as long as he needed; he was in no rush at all to have to start lying for the entire night. For the past hour or so, he had been working on mentally coaching himself, reviewing his story in his head, making sure that he had all the information down. Not that he was really worried about the party, just nervous. He had never met any of Norma's other friends before, and he was almost desperate to make a good impression. If he was going to get this guy off Norma's tracks _and_manage to advertise his thneed to these people, as well, he was going to need to be at the top of his game.

If he was being perfectly honest with himself, the idea of going on a date - even a _pretend_ date - with Norma wasn't all that bad. He was more than happy to help her out, though he had to admit, the entire story still confused him a little. But sometimes, he couldn't help but ask himself just _why _he was so eager to help her out. Sure, she was a friend, but he couldn't seriously be considering her for anything more than that! Could he? No, he was only allowing the situation to play tricks on his mind. And maybe, given the lie that they were going to have to pull off, it would be best that he was at least half-deluded into thinking this way. He could set everything straight later, but for now, would it really be so harmful to at least go with this line of thinking? Would it really be so bad? It wasn't as if this night was supposed to mean anything more than two good friends pulling off an effective lie and having fun doing so. So he had no reason at all to be worried.

Then, why was he worried? Why did he care if he looked inadequate in front of Norma's friends, or if the night didn't go as planned? Did they even _have_a plan set up for their "date"? Perhaps they were both blowing this way out of proportion.

Or _maybe_, a little voice in his head nagged him, he was merely using this little opportunity as an excuse to be close to Norma in ways that he wouldn't be permitted in everyday conversation. N-not _sexually_, of course, but more...affectionately. He'd finally have an excuse to reach out and touch her hair, after all. From day one, he had always been intrigued by those wild curls, wondered what it would feel like just to brush his fingers through it, at least once. He was merely curious. Not interested. He was far too busy with thneed-selling to be romantically interested in _anything_that wasn't a Truffula tree or knitting needle.

And he was perfectly right to think that way! A business as young as his was still needed nurturing, time to grow. And he would never get the chance to allow it to grow if he didn't advertise it to the best of his abilities. Perhaps there would be people at this party that had never seen him in town before. That would give him the chance for a fresh start, an entire new opportunity to present his product to the general public and see how they liked it. And if they all heard from Norma how great the thneed was, then maybe they'd be more keen to buy from him! He could ask her to deliver a testimonial or two, tell her friends how the thneed changed her life. It _had_to work. These people trusted her judgement better than just the word of a struggling businessman. Yes, it all worked out perfectly!

What he still _hadn't_figured out yet, however, was how to get this Arthur Wiggins guy to leave Norma alone. He had never really been in a relationship with anyone before, unless a short, four-day fling in the eighth grade with Melissa Jones counted. He didn't really know how to be affectionate in a relationship, or if he should act differently from when they were just "good friends". How would their conversations need to change? Surely they wouldn't need to spend the entire night drooling over each other, would they? It would be just like before. Or at least, he hoped it would. He didn't want just a silly little thing as a lie to fool an unwanted suitor to cause any unnecessary awkward feelings between the two of them. Norma was, at the risk of sounding sappy, the nicest person he had met in town yet, and if their friendship was suddenly broken, then it would certainly make things a lot more difficult on his part. And he hoped that she felt at least partly the same way.

Just as he was reviewing these conflicting thoughts in his head for about the thousandth time, a high-pitched neighing from Melvin pulled him back swiftly to reality. He looked over his shoulder at the mule, raising his eyebrows curiously. "What is it, buddy?" he called, walking across the floor of the gazebo and patting the donkey on the fuzzy space in between the eyes.

Whinnying impatiently, Melvin bucked his nose and shook Once-Ler's hand away, clopping his hooves in a sort of nervous agitation against the ground. He furrowed his brow with confusion, sighing with exasperation and deciding that perhaps it would be best to just let the mule be irritated. He would surely get kicked if he tried to calm him down, and he didn't want to have to survive the rest of the night with a sore hip. Or face. Whichever one Melvin deemed more appropriate. He didn't spend much longer thinking about it, however, before he glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of another figure walking slowly under the gazebo.

It was Norma, and she looked...different. Not in a bad way, not at all, just...different. He had never seen her looking this jubilant; she was positively glowing as she gave him a small wave and an enthusiastic grin, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear out of habit. That was what he noticed next, her change in hairstyle. In all the time that he had known her, he had grown accustomed to those endearingly-unruly curls, but now her dark hair fell in sleek curtains on either side of her face. Her eyes gleamed with bright optimism behind her glasses as she pushed them farther up on the bridge of her nose. She, as usual, was dressed nicely in a white shirt dappled with crimson polka dots, along with a pleated, high-waisted red skirt. He had never seen her so dolled up before.

"Hey, Norma!" he greeted lightly, a broad grin instantly spreading across his face as he walked closer to her. With his long legs, he closed the gap between them in a few easy strides. "Y-you look, uh...really nice!"

Blushing faintly, she replied, "Th-thanks, Once-Ler. My younger sister helped me with my hair, actually." She giggled. "I'm a little hopeless with it by myself."

Placing his hands casually on his hips, he nodded his head shortly. "Huh. You don't say! W-well, it...it looks great, really. What's your sister's name again?" he pointed his index finger at her, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully.

"Jean," Norma responded with a nod. "I'll have to let you meet her sometime. She's dying to get to finally see you in person." She bit her lower lip against another chuckle, and Once-Ler couldn't help but feel his cheeks grow slightly darker, flattered by this reception.

Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he laughed a little and said, "W-wow, um...well, I'd like to meet her, too!" He decided to just not even touch on the fact that Norma's younger sister knew his name and wanted to meet him meant that Norma herself had been talking about him. That certainly was not good for his frame of mind right now, no sir. Reminding himself to just not concern himself with it, he ignored the blush slowly creeping onto his cheeks, cleared his throat, and added, "A-ahaha, anyway. It's getting kinda late. Should we be going?"

"Oh," she gasped lightly, jumping a little where she stood with surprise. "Yes, you're probably right! Then again, maybe we could look fashionably late if we show up...maybe thirty minutes after?" she suggested with a giggle, covering her mouth and looking up at him through her eyelashes, the lenses of her glasses gleaming slightly in the light from the nearby street lamps.

He laughed, gesturing to his ensemble with outstretched arms, and looked back up at her quickly. "_Fashionably_ late, huh?" A smile spread across his features and the chuckled again, shaking his head to the point that his floppy bangs shifted under the brim of his fedora. "Ah, well, I don't know about _that_. But...um, actually, you know what?" He tilted his head to the side slightly, pointing his index finger at her absently. "I was hoping to talk with you really quickly before we headed down to the party, uh...if that's okay."

"Hm? Oh, sure thing, Once-Ler," she replied quickly, nodding her head, her eyes widening with faint surprise. Her light eyebrows shot upwards with intrigue, and she reached out for his hand. Interlacing their fingers, she smiled and added softly, "Why don't we go sit down?" Without even waiting for him to respond, though, she turned swiftly on her heel and strode over to their usual bench, leaving the Once-Ler stumbling behind her in tow, nearly doubled over to make up for the height difference.

When Norma finally sat down on the bench, smoothing out her skirt, he flopped gracelessly down beside her, taking a moment to dust himself off before he looked at her and fixed her with a curiously earnest expression lighting up his features. In truth, there were a lot of things on his mind that he wanted to get off his chest, and he figured that if they got it settled now before the party, then it would make the evening altogether more enjoyable for both of them. After all, neither of them really had an understanding of what sort of ground rules they were supposed to follow for the evening, and he didn't want to accidentally overstep an invisible boundary between them. Clearing his throat, he tried to ignore the blush slowly creeping onto his cheeks as he addressed the issue as concisely and calmly as he could possible manage.

"So?" she asked him, shrugging with interest, leaning forward towards him ever so slightly, her hair falling a little in her face. "What was it that you wanted to talk about?" Fixing him with a cheery smile, she added, "Remember, we've got to be 'fashionably late', so you can take all the time you need." She giggled, nudging him playfully, her cheeks and nose tinted faintest pink.

"U-uh, yeah..." he laughed shakily, patting her hand lightly, more a source of comfort for him than for her, though. "Right, uh...anyway, um, listen, I was just wondering...uh, before we go to the party, should we maybe...set some limits?" He paused, waiting to see her reaction to this suggestion, but her facial expression remained the same. The only noticeable difference was that the smile on her face drooped a little, slowly turning into a confused grin. "Um, y-you know! Just so we're..._clear_on how this little...fib should play out. I don't want to accidentally..." he shrugged his shoulders innocently, "make you uncomfortable or anything. I-I mean, personally, I've only been on, like...one or two dates before, s-so I'm pretty inexperienced anyway, but...but still. I wanted to make sure."

After a moment, realization of the point of was trying to make became apparent on her features. She nodded her head in eager agreement, the smile quickly returning and brightening her already-rosy features. "Oh, of course! Why didn't I think of that? Sure thing, Once-Ler. Um..." she bit her lower lip thoughtfully, looking up towards the sky for a moment as she considered this. "Well, uh...I think I feel pretty comfortable around you, to be honest. I...I don't mind you holding my hand, o-or perhaps touching my hair! Or maybe...maybe we could pretend that we got together because you kissed me while playing guitar!" She giggled excitedly, then broke off quickly, realizing how carried away she had gotten before blushing heavily and clearing her throat, looking away.

Once-Ler coughed somewhat awkwardly, as well, fearing that already, this little lie had ruined so much between them. Feeling his own face growing red at her words, he smiled a little and laughed shakily. "U-uh, right. Well, actually, you know what? Those ideas could work!" He pointed his index finger in her direction, nodding swiftly, gaining confidence in both himself and their plan as he spoke. "And, you know something? Maybe if we were _really_ convincing, then not only would this Arthur guy finally back off, but maybe your friends will see how happy we've made each other and will want to cut _me _a break, too!"

Norma smirked with amusement, clicking her tongue and shaking her head with a soft laugh. "Typical of you to see a party as a perfect marketing opportunity, Once-Ler." She gave him a look of mock reproach that quickly melted into a genuine grin. Chuckling at this, she gave his hand a gentle, encouraging squeeze and added, "Hey, don't worry. I'm sure _someone_is bound to notice you at that party. You know, Arthur might even be interested in buying one!" She nodded her head, and it was odd to not see her curly hair bouncing around, as well.

Unable to fight the smile growing on his face, he stood up from the bench excitedly, slowly dragging her to her feet, as well. "So, then, what are we waiting for? Let's get going!" He laughed excitedly, reaching out to clutch her other hand, as well.

"Okay," she giggled, leading him in the proper direction. He followed after her, a broad smile stretching onto his features as he stumbled down the sidewalk. "Arthur's house is this way." They continued running along with an almost ridiculous giddy attitude, the two of them just laughing and celebrating the time that they had together. About halfway down the road, though, a soft frown appeared on Norma's face and she slowed down her pace, releasing one of his hands and turning to face him with wide eyes. "Um, O-Once-Ler? Actually, can I suggest one more thing?"

Arching a dark eyebrow, he shook his head and shrugged. "Uh, sure. Go ahead. What is it, Norma?"

She was reluctant for only a moment, biting down onto her lower lip, and then she sighed deeply. "I-I don't mind being..._affectionate_ tonight, if it helps it look believable. But...I don't think we should...k-kiss." She paused carefully, looking cautiously up at him before cracking a small smile. She still looked somewhat solemn, though, as she added, "I-It might make me fall for you for _real_." She was silent for a moment, the air between them tense, and then she broke into a tiny laugh.

Wanting to compensate for the quiet period between them, during which his heart had hammered like a drum against his rib cage, Once-Ler cracked a grin, as well, laughing along with her, though perhaps loudly than was necessary. He reached out for her hand again, giving her the best comforting smile he could possibly manage, especially given the serious nature of her words. "O-Okay! No kissing, promise! A-and, uh, actually...Norma?"

"Yes, Once-Ler?"

"Um..." he shrugged his shoulders, grinning sheepishly, "maaaaaybe you can call me 'Oncie'. _Just _for tonight."

Immediately, this statement allowed a grin to brighten her features. "That sounds great to me." She paused momentarily, then clasped his hands tightly again. "Now, come on! We'll need to get going!"

The entire way there, Once-Ler was still trying to decode the meaning of her cryptic little message.


	10. Chapter Ten: Life of the Party

When Norma and the Once-Ler finally strode up to the driveway of the Wiggins household, she was immediately reminded why she hadn't been to a single party here since her childhood. The last time she had attended one of these parties, she had been nine or ten years old, and she and Arthur had spent much of the evening in his spacious backyard, dancing to the loud strings and bass of the band playing inside the house, the sounds blaring through the stereo system. Childhood had made her blind to just how pretentious the entire place was. The Wiggins' owned one of the largest homes in town, and lived on a street in a suburban part of the town that nearly everyone in Norma's neighborhood envied with a fiery passion. The house itself was white with a dark roof, tall and wide, with large oak doors that, at the moment, were propped wide open, allowing guests inside. From where they stood in the driveway, Norma could see a warm yellow light filling the inside, the glittering sparkles of a chandelier casting lights out onto the porch. Apparently, they had renovated during the time she and Arthur had been apart; there were Grecian columns lining the porch now, adding to the stuffy, overall "fake" atmosphere that surrounded the place.

Not long after their last party together, they had been placed in different classes in school, and that had been when he had started distancing himself from her. So young, and already a social climber. It seemed to be an inherited trait in the Wiggins family, unfortunately. Arthur's father and brother were no better, and in fact, were probably worse. At least Arthur was nice enough to her, if only because he felt obligated to do so because of their background, and in private. For much of her teenage life, Norma had been foolish enough to follow him blindly, putting up with him ridiculing her in front of his oh-so-important friends, in the hopes that he was merely unintentionally brushing her aside. She wasn't sure of the specific date that she had come to the realization of the exact _opposite_, but when she had, it had been difficult. After finally seeing how far apart they had grown over the years, she had promptly returned his cold shoulder twofold.

Perhaps she was just being naïve and irrationally optimistic, but there was still a flicker of hope inside her that maybe she and Arthur could rekindle that old innocent friendship of theirs one day. Then there was the more intelligent side to her that spoke up, reminding her that nothing had changed him - he had always been this way, she just hadn't seen it. Arthur Wiggins was not the type of person she wanted to be friends with; not right _now_, anyway. There was a small part of her heart that hoped that he would one day get over himself and see that there was more to life than just getting to the top of the social ladder, and leaving old friends, _true_friends behind. If he couldn't even be bothered to be nice to her in public, then it wasn't something that she was willing to pursue actively just yet. He was going to have to make the first step and be the one to admit to her that he was wrong. After so many years, she was through with trailing behind him like a lost puppy, begging for his friendship again.

Stealing a glance over at the Once-Ler for a moment, she thought for a moment on how different these two men were. Arthur was arrogant and superficial, and while the Once-Ler certainly was not humble, he had never really struck her as full of himself or stuck-up. He exuded a sort of confidence that would _look_arrogant on anyone else, but the dark-haired man was just so charismatic, he made it work. He was genuine and, while he and Arthur definitely shared the same amount of ambition, something told her that he would never go to such lengths as betraying promises and abandoning friendships just for the sake of success and approval from others. That sort of thing was low and incredibly petty, and even though she didn't view him as an angel with a halo and wings, she knew that he was just not the type to sink to that level.

After several moments passed in silence between them, Norma realized that while she was lost in her thoughts, she had still left her gaze on Once-Ler. He had been busy surveying the house and the surrounding land with wide, eager blue eyes, but now that he had taken the entire scene in, he turned to face her. His eyebrows shot upward with surprise as he noticed her staring, a faint blush coloring his features. Clearing his throat, he reached out with the hand that wasn't clasping hers and tapped her shoulder lightly.

"Uh...Norma? You still there? Your eyes are glazing over there." He chuckled quietly at the end of his sentence, but there was a definite note of curiosity and nervousness there in his voice and in his expression that made her snap out of her trance almost immediately.

Jolting, she blinked and looked up at him, her face flushing darkly with humiliation. Plastering a smile on her face, she laughed airily and tucked a smooth lock of hair behind her ear restlessly. "O-oh, uh...yeah, I guess I just got distracted for a second. Ahem. Well, then, um...what do you think of the place?"

The Once-Ler sighed, pushing the brim of his hat a little farther up his forehead, eyes wide and wonderous as he drank in the scene. "It's, uh...well, it's really something!" Clearing his throat, he nodded and turned to Norma with a shaky little laugh. "I think my house would fit in this one, like...three times before it started getting crowded in there."

"W-well, don't worry! It'll be okay! No need to be intimidated." She smiled up at him, squeezing his hand quickly, though the comforting gesture was likely more effective for her than for him. "We can do this. Definitely. Personally, I think I've got a _great _poker face. I've been practicing!" She giggled, trying to lighten the mood a little by dropping one eyelid in a playful wink.

Nodding in firm agreement and giving her his typical confident smile, he replied brightly, "Yeah, you're right! This is nothing that I can't handle. By the end of this party, Arthur Wiggins won't even know what hit him. Aaaaaaand, if I'm lucky, every one of his guests will be proudly sporting a brand-new thneed." He laughed again, lacing his fingers through hers as they began to slowly walk down the driveway together.

About halfway down the winding cobblestone pathway, they came to a pair of wrought-iron gates. Norma blinked in surprise; she certainly didn't remember _those_things being there when she was a little girl. She scoffed slightly to herself, rolling her eyes at the ostentatious addition to their home. What they thought gave the impression of a refined, cultured residence only served to make them look even more foolish and airheaded than usual, in her opinion. Then again, she had already seen how much her opinion mattered to Arthur, so she figured she might as well not even bother thinking such malicious things. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest, peering between the bars of the gate to see if anyone was around to offer any assistance.

"Ah! Norma! Glad to see that you made it!"

Jumping a little with surprise, Norma gripped the cool bars blocking her way, peering in the growing darkness to see the figure approaching them from the other side of the gate. Once the stocky silhouette grew closer, her eyes widened and she drew back slightly, removing her hands quickly and drawing them back to her sides to smooth out her skirt. It, of course, was Arthur, dressed impeccably in a silver suit with a periwinkle-blue shirt underneath. His blonde hair had been quite obviously gelled back for the occasion, and even from several feet away, Norma could smell it, minty and tingly on her nostrils. The Once-Ler stiffened visibly beside her, his posture tensing up just a fraction. Brushing her hand against his in a comforting gesture for just an instant, she glanced up at the tall brunette, then over at Arthur again with a wide smile. Hopefully, he wouldn't catch on to just how fake the smile felt on her face.

"Arthur...good to see you!" she chirped, trying to keep her voice both calm and intrigued at the same time.

"I see you've done something different with your hair," he observed with an amused grin, lifting his index finger to her and nodding his head slightly. "I like it! It's classy!" An instant later, he lowered his eyes to the lock on the gate, unlocking it in one swift movement and swinging the doors aside. Trying to appear confident, Norma reached up and looped her arm through Once-Ler's, practically sashaying through the pathway created for them.

"Thank you," she responded, keeping a firm grip on the musician's arm as she kept in stride with Arthur, heading down the driveway to his yard. He fell into step beside her, hands behind his back, eyebrows raised with quiet interest. "O-oh, um, I almost forgot." She stopped walking for just a moment, turning to face the older boy. "Arthur, this is Once-Ler. M-my, um..._date_." She gestured towards the lanky man with her free hand, smiling brightly. "Once-Ler, this is Arthur Wiggins. Childhood friend."

Although the Once-Ler grinned just as enthusiastically back at Arthur, Norma couldn't help but notice the dark-haired youth hesitate for just a moment before extending his arm to shake the other man's hand. His eyes were bright, even in the darkness, and as the two gentlemen shook hands, she could practically feel the tension it created in the air. She could see that critical gaze slipping onto Arthur's features as he gave Once-Ler a quick once-over; she had seen that look on his face enough times before when he had fired it at _her _to know that it could be intimidating. So she was fairly, rightly impressed when he was able to stand his ground and stare calmly right back at Arthur; the only noticeable difference was a slight tremble in the arm that held her close to him.

Chuckling lightly, Arthur drew back his hand, slipping both into the pockets of his suit as he leaned back, his posture considerably more relaxed, and said, "So. You're the infamous Once-Ler, huh? Well, we're just delighted to have you here. Charmed, really." Smiling his typical smile, one befitting a politician rather than a young man at a homecoming party, he glanced between Norma and her date and added quickly, "I don't think Norma mentioned how long you two have been seeing each other...? If you'll forgive my asking. It's just, you don't seem very familiar to me. And trust me, I know pretty much _every_ face in this town. The Wiggins family practically _owns _this place." Smirking somewhat haughtily, he shrugged his shoulders and casually awaited an answer.

"Ah, two months," said the Once-Ler in response to Arthur's question, nodding his head with a casual confidence that would have made the fib work perfectly.

That is, if Norma hadn't blown their cover by saying at the exact same time, "Oh, about five months."

Both of them shot each other a nervous glance, almost in perfect unison with one another. Norma bit her lower lip, blushing heavily at her slip-up, realizing that perhaps they should have worked through their back story a little bit more thoroughly before just jumping into the act so impulsively. Almost imperceptibly, Once-Ler gave her a slight shrug of his shoulders, his eyes wide and gleaming. Someone that knew him as well as Norma did would be able to tell that this expression, glassy-eyed and wondering, meant that he was thinking on his feet, scrambling to come up with a smooth recovery. She brought a hand to her lips, cupping it over her mouth and ducking her head to hide the smirk slowly tugging at her features as she kept her eyes on the floppy-haired young man. Arthur cast a suspicious glance between the two of them, then gave an awkward, uneasy little laugh.

"Actually, um, Arthur," Once-Ler began after a momentary pause, tugging nervously at the brim of his fedora, as was habit for him whenever he got nervous. "You know something? We're not really one of those couples that like to focus on things like...like _time_, I guess. It just seems kinda...unimportant, really, when you compare it to all that we have." Grinning over at the other man, he draped his arm quite casually over Norma's shoulder, giving her a barely perceptible wink that made her giggle unintentionally.

Surprisingly, this lie seemed to go over fairly well with Arthur, who merely nodded his head once, then stared at them with wide, curious eyes. Blinking several times in the silence, he eventually cracked a grin and ran his hand through his sleek blonde hair, nodding once again to perhaps buy himself some time to think on the matter. Finally, after what felt like an eternity in awkward, uncomfortable silence, he decided to break the silence by chuckling and saying, "Oh, I see. Weeeeell, isn't that...nice." Though the words were obviously supposed to be interpreted as a compliment, there was an obvious irritated undertone in the young man's voice, the word "nice" escaping his lips in a flat, curt manner.

Norma, who had shivered a little from Once-Ler's sudden warmth enveloped around her shoulders and had fallen silent from the sensation for several seconds, now realized that this would be a likely spot for her to jump into the conversation and help to reassure their story in Arthur's mind. Clearing her throat, she smiled up at the Once-Ler before tossing her newly glossy hair and turning her amused grin onto Arthur, making sure to obey her natural instinct to lean a little closer to the man pretending to be her boyfriend. She began to notice that, slowly but surely, the veil of awkward and nervous feelings that once covered both of them was now beginning to lift, allowing for much easier, freer conversation than before. In fact, she hardly batted an eyelash when the Once-Ler returned her gesture, hugging her closer to his body with the arm casually wrapped over her shoulders.

"Anyway, we're _so_ thrilled that you invited us, Arthur," enthused Norma, plastering as genuine a smile as she could possibly manage onto her features. And who knew? Perhaps after the night's events, she really _would _be glad that she had decided to go. Only time would tell, really. Glancing over to Oncie next, she threw in a little giggle and nudged him playfully, hoping that she wasn't perhaps laying it on too thickly. "But it's kind of chilly out, isn't it? Maybe we should be heading inside."

Laughing in unison with her, both of them perhaps overcompensating for their earlier slip-up, the Once-Ler nodded and chimed in, "Uh, yeah, I totally agree there. Besides, that party sounds _awesome_from out here. I can hear the music all the way from the driveway!" Practically bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet in what seemed to be genuine excitement for the evening, he glanced over to Norma with a grin and added, "Let's go ahead and get the party started." He laughed giddily, "It's not a party without us in there, right, Norma?"

She giggled in response to this, biting her lower lip and gazing up at him. She blushed heavily as she realized how long she had allowed her eyes to linger on his, then quickly tore her gaze away, instead choosing to glance over at Arthur, nodding eagerly. She threw a cautionary look back at the Once-Ler, trying to gauge his reaction, hoping he hadn't noticed her flustered reaction to such a simple sentence. Thankfully, he seemed just as blissfully oblivious as ever. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she squeezed the tall man's upper arm, gave him a reassuring grin, and then the two of them began striding for the front doors of the Wiggins home. Arthur soon fell into step beside them, his footsteps crackling in the gravel driveway almost rhythmically.

Eventually, they stood at the front doors, Arthur moving to lean casually against one of the smooth cream columns off to the left side. Waving his hand dismissively to the two of them, he said, "You two go inside and get acquainted with the other guests, if you like. I'm going to stay out here and greet the others that show up...late." He eyed Norma and the Once-Ler specifically on the last word of his sentence, an infuriating little smirk twitching upward at the corners of his mouth.

It took all the self-control that Norma possessed inside her to keep her fists clenched at her sides, rather than putting them to good use by making contact with Arthur Wiggins's nose. Gritting her teeth and steadying herself with a deep breath, she gave him a cordial nod, looping her arm through Oncie's again and trying to keep her voice crisp with professionalism. "Very well, then, Arthur. Let's be going, then, Oncie," she said, clutching his arm, if only for her own comfort. "We wouldn't want to bother Arthur, would we?"

Thankfully catching on to her brisk, formal attitude towards the man she had claimed was her "friend", Once-Ler nodded in response, eyes widening slightly. Clearing his throat, he glanced awkwardly between the two of them, gave Arthur a small wave and a chuckle, and replied nervously, "O-oh, yeah. Yeeeeeah. That sounds _awesome_. I'll just...be going now. E-ehehe. C'mon, Norma." And without another glance in Arthur's direction, he steered her inside the house, leaving her stumbling somewhat to keep up with his long-legged stride.

When they walked into the room, the two of them were almost instantly created by a crowd of people, all clad in sparkles and pinstripes and carrying wine glasses. Their eyes traveled to the door at the sound of Once-Ler and Norma walking into the room, but they quickly lost interest and each returned to their respectful activities, conversing in small groups, sitting on velveteen couches casually, dancing to the hum of the music floating through the halls. Feeling her grip instinctively tighten around the Once-Ler's arm, she took a shaky little breath, feeling a light blush rush to her face. Not for the first time that evening, the doubt returned to grip her gut, convincing her thoroughly that tonight, both of them would be caught in a humiliating-beyond-belief display in front of everybody else. She threw a nervous glance up at him, biting her lower lip and measuring his reaction. To her surprise, he looked...thrilled. A giddy grin was spreading across his features, even the freckles on his nose tinted a shade of pink. His eyes glowed with enthusiasm under the light thrown off the chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

"Um...Once-Ler?" Norma piped up, licking her lips nervously. When he looked in her direction, lifting his eyebrows curiously, she continued, her voice soft. "A-are you sure we can do this?"

He grinned, swatting his hand in the air with a snort, as if he were chasing away a particularly pestering fly. "Ah, of course we can! This'll be a piece of cake, Norma. Half of these people probably won't even pay any attention to us. It's all good."

"Uh...right. You're right!" She nodded her head firmly, trying to appear more confident in herself than she really felt. "Hm...you seem oddly at peace with this, you know. I thought you'd be disappointed that they wouldn't be paying any attention to you. Weren't you planning on advertising for your thneed here?"

Giving the room a cursory glance, he bit his lower lip for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, his facial expression a mask of indifference. He gave her a confident grin, responding quickly, "Ah, well, I was, actually. Buuuuuut...as it turns out, I think I've already tried selling to all of these people." He nodded shortly, then added quickly, "Yep. I'm sure that I've seen over half of these guys outside of the gazebo in town before."

"You're kidding," whispered Norma in response as they strode into the room, arms still protectively linked. "All these people?" She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, then gestured to the fuzzy pink thneed he had slung around his neck. It was the first time she had acknowledged its existence the entire evening, and she could tell by the sudden light in his eyes that he was pleased that she had at last noticed it. "Well, it's certainly a conversation-starter." She giggled, fiddling with the soft hem of the thneed as she continued to walk alongside him. And the poor thing was blushing now, too, she noticed, wrinkling her nose playfully as she watched the pink shading spread across his features. "Someone's bound to take interest in it here, Oncie. Don't worry."

"Y-you really think so?" he asked her hopefully, positively beaming.

Norma nodded, laughing airily, a light smile touching her features, as well. It seemed that the Once-Ler's energy and vivacious enthusiasm was highly contagious. "Oh, I _know_so. You'll see. Everything will work out alright in the end."

The smile on his face biggering by the second, Once-Ler let out a giddy little laugh and nodded in agreement with her, the blush coloring his cheeks only serving to darken slightly. "Y'know what? You're right! I ought to just keep my chin up! After all, tonight could be my big break!" He nodded confidently and gave her a self-assured grin, adding quickly, "Thanks, Norma."

Norma giggled, wrinkling her nose slightly and blushing faintly at his words of gratitude. In all the time that she had known the Once-Ler, she had learned that he was nothing if not ambitious. In fact, it was safe to say that he was likely the most driven and determined man that she had ever met, even more so than even her father, who always worked hard at every little aspect of his life, no matter how miniscule. And in the time that she and Oncie had grown to be such good friends, he had used the phrase "Today's gonna be my big break" more times than she could even begin to count. That, along with his ever-present need to be up and moving, as if someone had attached little wings to his shoes, she had always considered an endearing character trait. Whereas other people...people like _Arthur_...merely saw him as obnoxious.

Aaaaaand she had to admit, maybe...Norma kind of found the Once-Ler to be a little on the obnoxious side at first, as well. Just a _little_.

"What do you have to thank me for, Once-Ler?" Norma asked, biting her lower lip and staring up at him through her eyelashes, dark eyes bright with amusement behind her round glasses. "I'm sure you already knew everything that I just told you. As if your ego actually needs another boost." Dropping an eyelid in a playful wink, she laughed again and gave him a slight nudge. "I can't tell if you're just being modest or if you're fishing for compliments here."

Once-Ler laughed softly at this, then reached out and ruffled her hair, as if she had suddenly become his younger sister instead of a friend and equal. She blushed at this, smirking and crossing her arms indignantly, but her ruffled mood was quickly lifted by his next words. "Well...I was thanking you for...y'know, being there for me...when nobody else is." He shrugged his shoulders sheepishly, looking down at his feet and mumbling, "That's really important to me, aaaaaand...I...really appreciate it, e-ehehe."

"O-oh." She paused for a few seconds, staring up at him, eyes wide and curious. The scorching blush on her face grew even darker when she finally managed to say, "Well, you're certainly very welcome, Oncie." Catching herself slipping into the habit of referring to him as the nickname that he claimed to detest, she flinched a little and eyed him nervously, hoping that his reaction wouldn't be too bad. "I-I'm sorry. I mean, Once-Ler. Hah. Uhm, f-feel free to, y'know, nudge me or something if I start doing that again."

He rubbed the back of his neck, giving an awkward little laugh, his own face tinted slightly pink, though it appeared to be out of mere excitement, rather than embarrassment. "Heeeeey, don't worry about it. Like I said, tonight, things are gonna be a liiiiittle different. So, it stands to reason that tonight, I'm _totally_okay with that." Steering her off in the direction of the dance floor, he leaned a little closer to her as they walked and muttered, "Now, what do you say that we mingle a little? I mean, it couldn't hurt to make our story a little stronger, y'know."

"U-uh, uh...I-I dunno, Oncie." Oh, and there was that stubborn little stutter acting up again, roaring into being whenever Norma found herself becoming flustered or nervous over a situation. "I would think that the _less_people we talk to, the better." She bit her lower lip, trying her best to remain cautiously optimistic. After all, Once-Ler exuded self-confidence, always charging into every task ahead of him with an eager smile on his face. How on earth could she possibly live up to that kind of energy? "I-I mean, y'know...we could get carried away, and our story could get really messed up."

He tilted his head to the side slightly, considering this for a moment. She waited patiently as he weighed their options, then turned to her with a chuckle, that always-bright grin still on his face. "Ah, maybe you're right. B-but, hey, in that case, why don't we dance a little? I _do_really like this song. Nice and jazzy."

Perking up at this, Norma couldn't help but allow a small smile to grace her features, as well. She remained silent, listening for a moment as the melodic strains of music carried through the air, brassy and bombastic, a good song to swing to. During the earlier years of her high school days, she had loved to go out dancing with her friends on the weekends; there was a local restaurant that hosted weekly dance-offs, and they had always gone down to try and compete for first prize: fifty dollars and a discount on their next meal. Of course, they had only ever managed to place at least third, but she had still had fun with it. This song in particular she remembered from those days, the woman's husky, slightly seductive voice as bold as a queen as it duoed with the sounds of the trumpets and bass.

Still, it surprised her to learn that Oncie, of all people, was also interested in this sort of thing. In the months that she had taken the time to become his friend and learn all about him, she had always assumed from his guitar-playing that he was more interested in the rock-star scene. Now that she looked at him and thought about it, though, she supposed that she _could_see him spending a lazy day listening to these older, classic songs. He seemed like a Sinatra man. Giggling a little at the mental image that this conjured up, she leaned a little closer to him, trying her best to contain the eagerness now flooding through her.

"_You _like jazz music, Once-Ler?" she asked with a lighthearted, incredulous laugh. "I didn't think it was your...type. O-of music, I mean."

He laughed in return at this, grabbing her hand and giving her a quick spin. She gasped, stumbling a little, looping around, her hair flying around her, until she came to a stop pressed against his chest, her head tilted slightly upward so that their eyes met. Normally, this would have been a somewhat romantic position, and actually would have served to their advantage if it had been executed properly, but Norma felt as if she were bent at an odd angle, much too short to be against his chest like that. She gulped nervously at the shakiness in her legs, feeling her face grow hot as his heartbeat fluttered like a bird under the hand that rested on his chest. The goofy grin was still plastered onto the Once-Ler's face, but she noticed that his face was beginning to flood with a light shading of pink, as well.

"O-Oncie, don't startle me like that," she giggled again, trying to lighten the mood by wrinkling her nose and giving him a playful little swat on the chest. "Bad~!"

His lower-pitched laugh mingling with her spritely little chuckles, he slowly released her from his grip, pushing a hand casually through his hair. "_Bad_? C'mon, I'm not bad. I'm a good guy." He grinned broadly at this, looking jovial and still incredibly amused by how obviously flustered she was. Clearing his throat, he glanced around the room quickly before adding, "But, uh...yeah. To answer your question, I _am_ a fan of those old jazzy songs. But y'know something? I guess it's because of where I grew up, buuuuuut I actually _do_kinda have a thing for bluegrass."

"Bluegrass?" Norma wrinkled her nose distastefully, then laughed a little at this, though not unkindly. "Oh, I don't care too much for _bluegrass_. Well...actually, I haven't heard a _lot_ of it. Not a lot of people play it in the city." She shrugged her shoulders, glancing down at her feet for a minute before looking back up to him with a small grin. "But that doesn't change my opinion of you at all! In fact, I would _love_to hear you sing a bluegrass song someday."

He waved his hand dismissively, snorting a little as he gave a soft chortle at this comment. "Nah, it's okay. Trust me, even _I've_ gotta admit, the banjo's an obnoxious instrument. It's just impossible for me to _dislike_any kind of music, I think." He grinned sheepishly, lifting his shoulders in a shrug to match hers, then tacked on as an afterthought, "And anyway, I mean, I grew up with that music. It's Mom's favorite. I guess it's always...kinda...had a place with me. Ehehe. That probably sounds stupid."

Almost immediately, Norma shook her head, her eyes enlarging slightly with earnest honesty. "O-oh, no. It doesn't sound stupid to me at all! I-In fact, I understand exactly what you're saying!" Nodding enthusiastically, she stepped a little closer to him, standing up on her tiptoes to get a better look into his eyes. "All music is a form of self-expression, right? So how can you possibly hate it when a person's just telling how they feel? Sure, it might be in a little different _way_ than you prefer, but you know what? In _my _opinion, at least, you ought to give everyone a shot." She nodded firmly, a confident smile stretching onto her features as she looked upwards at him.

Instead of directly responding to her words, Once-Ler gave another giddy little laugh, giving his head a slight shake before slowly offering his hand to her. "D'you want to dance with me, Norma?"

"Oh...!" she paused at his question, glancing down at his hand, then back up at him, in pleasant surprise. After a few seconds, she relaxed her tensed shoulders, nodded eagerly, and took his hand, practically skipping as she led him out onto the dance floor. "Why, Mr. Once-Ler, I thought you'd never ask."

And then, in a blur of twists and turns and twirls and giggles, Norma discovered that the two of them really did make good partners. As dancers, of course. Friends. Dancing together. Nothing more. Giggling as he spun her around, leading the fast-paced swing dance confidently, she didn't even stop for a moment to consider that her hair was likely getting messed up, or that she was going red in the face and her forehead was becoming sweaty from exertion. Their feet moved quickly across the floor, their arms entwined, her skirt flowering out around her as she swirled around him in circles. He lifted her occasionally, a momentary pressure of his hands against her waist the only signal to her that she wasn't _really_flying. Dancing with him, however, she almost felt as if she could be. Just for a moment.

Panting and slightly disheveled when they finished the number, Once-Ler gave a short, breathless laugh, clutching her sweaty hand with his own and leading her back to the nearest wall, where a bench was waiting to be vacated. Immediately, the long-legged man flopped down into the seat, tilting his head back until it touched the wall, taking metered breaths. Norma sat down beside him, feeling just comfortable enough - and just bold enough - to scoot in a little closer to him and lean her head against his chest. She giggled softly as she felt his heartbeat leaping against his rib cage, sliding her hands slowly around his waist and interlocking her own fingers. Perhaps she was breaking one of the many little invisible boundaries that they had set before coming here, but she couldn't really bring herself to care too much about that anymore. And anyway, Once-Ler didn't seem to mind. He merely glanced down at her with a smile, moving a strand of slightly damp hair out of his eyes.

"Comfy?" he asked her, a note of amused sarcasm carrying through in his voice.

Smirking, Norma snuggled a little closer and tightened her grip on his waist a little in a quick squeeze before slackening her grip once again. "Oh, yes. You make a wonderful pillow, Oncie." She looked up at him, shaking a frizzy strand of hair out of her face before giving him a broad grin and adding, "And an equally wonderful dance partner, I might add. I had a lot of fun."

"Weeeeell, glad to be of service to you," he responded, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "I aim to please, ma'am. And I gotta say, that _was _pre-tty darn fun. Hey, where'd you learn to dance like that, anyways, Norma?"

"Oh..." she blushed heavily and looked away from him for a moment, smiling and sighing wistfully. "My friends and I used to go out dancing all the time. The place we used to go has shut down since then, but...goodness, we always had the best time. I would've liked to show it to you sometime. It's too bad you didn't show up a little bit earlier."

He nodded slowly with intrigue. "Ah, sounds like it. W-well, uh, I'm not much of a dancer, but it does sound like it was a pretty cool place to be. Hey. Maybe when my thneed business lifts off the ground, I could...build you a whole _city_with places to dance, huh?" He laughed lightly, then looked down at her curiously. "Would you live in a place like Thneedville, Norma? I mean, just imagine it...the perfect town. All named for my invention." He gazed dreamily into the distance, his voice turned soft and faraway as he continued speaking. "A-a place where people could...surf and ski at the same time and everything! Something for everyone!"

Norma smiled at this, looking up at him and leaning a little closer against his chest. "Hee~ well, I don't know about _that_, but I will tell you that I love to ski. It certainly sounds like an interesting place to live. With Mayor Once-Ler to keep everything in charge, of course." She giggled and gave him a conspiratorial wink.

"Mayor Once-Ler, huh?" he laughed, straightening his posture somewhat. "I like the sound of that."

Norma shifted her position, as well, stifling a soft yawn as she grinned and answered, "I thought you might." She nudged him playfully, snickering as she added, "And who knows? Maybe one day, that'll all be a reality. And whenever you grace us residents of Thneedville with your noble presence, we can sing for you." Giving him a teasingly playful little grin, she let out a light, admittedly flirtatious squeal as he smirked and nudged her back.

"Yeah, yeah, laaaaaaugh it up, Norma," he responded, though he clearly was trying his hardest not to laugh, as well, a broad smile tugging at his lips. "One of these days, you'll be _leading_them all in song~. 'For he's a jolly good Once-Ler, for he's a jolly good Once-Ler! For he's a jolly good Once-Leeeeeeer...'" he laughed as he crooned the song in a joking, over-the-top fashion, and Norma blushed at the sound of his voice.

"'Whiiiiiich nobody can denyyyyy~'," she finished, collapsing into another fit of laughter and leaning in a little closer to him now.

She was no longer snuggled against his chest, but the two of them were turned on the bench to face each other, each smiling and staring into the other's eyes, quite unable to stop. Giving a breathless little laugh, Norma hesitated only a moment before gulping, leaning forward, and pressing a quick, light kiss against his cheek. Slowly, she drew back, her face turning dark red as she took in the surprise in his facial expression. His eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as he reached upward and lightly touched his fingers against where she had kissed him. He didn't look particularly angered by this action, merely perplexed, furrowing his brow in confusion and giving his head a quick shake as he spoke up again.

"U-uh...w-wait a minute, Norma, how...why...did you...u-uh, I thought you said that if you kissed me, then you might fall for me for real?" At the end of his sentence, his voice cracked up an octave in a nervous squeak.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she giggled and put a cheery grin on her face, trying to appear confident and at ease with the situation, despite her jarred, frayed nerves. Her voice shook for only a moment as she replied briskly, "W-well, now, Oncie...maybe I _have_."

And, for the first time in a long while, not even Norma could tell if she were joking or being serious.


	11. Chapter Eleven: Proving Them Wrong

_Oncie -_

_Well, it's been two months since you left home to try and sell that silly invention of yours, and so far, you still haven't managed to prove me wrong. Of course, this doesn't surprise me at all, no sir. I knew right from the beginning that it was nothing but a bad idea. It seems like I was right about you all along, sonny boy. Maybe it's time for you to call off this entire idea and come home to Mama. I promise, I won't say "I told you so". Too often, at least._

_It sure is a darn shame that you weren't able to go out and make something of yourself, Oncie. Do you know how embarrassing it is to have to face the fact that I gave birth to such a failure? I swear, maybe if you'd put others before yourself sometimes, you'd actually make an effort to be somebody important. It's just downright selfish of you to slack off like this, and go off and chase your silly little dreams that will never come true when you've got your mama at home to take care of._

_So! I've decided to give you a little advice, just to make sure that you never let me down like this again. After all, if you fail me one more time, I just don't think my poor little heart could take it. Now, listen up, son, and listen good. I want you to come home real soon, and as soon as you get back, we'll work on getting you the college education you passed up on to go sell that Treed or whatever it's called. And once you're good and schooled, we'll send you off to get a real job in the real world._

_Just remember, Oncie. Whatever I do and say, it's only because I love you, baby doll. Be sure to write back real soon!_

_Kiss kiss,_

_Mama_

_P.S. The rest of the family says "howdy"._

* * *

His hands trembling as he re-read the contents of the letter for about the fifth time since he had received it that morning, the Once-Ler gulped and sat down at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the sheet of paper in his grip. He tried scanning over the note again, but for whatever reason, his mind couldn't seem to process the sloping, looping cursive slanting across the wrinkled page. The words were there, but they had stopped making sense. He supposed it was a self-defense mechanism of some sort; if he believed firmly enough that what his mother had said was not the truth, then perhaps it would _make _it all a lie. And he could go back to blissfully playing his guitar, knitting more thneeds, instead of having to face the cold, undeniable truth that his mother had thrown his way.

After two months, she had finally decided to respond to his letter, and _this _was what he had gotten. He couldn't say that what she had said came as a big _shock _to him - after all, he'd heard a good deal of it throughout his adolesence from not only his family, but his schoolteachers and peers, as well - but the words still stung nonetheless. Coming from his own mother, they always seemed to cut as deep and as mercilessly as knives, and he always felt so powerless to stop it. There was nothing more that he wanted in the whole world than to make her proud, after all. And every time he seemed to be drawing closer to achieving that goal, he would be drawn backwards once again, only to be told that he wasn't smart enough, wasn't strong enough, wasn't talented enough to make it as a success in the real world. After spending pretty much his entire adult life _hearing _it, perhaps it was time that he started believing it.

No. He couldn't afford to think that way. He had already gotten this far. It didn't make any sense to just give up and turn his back on his life's work _now_. That would only be playing into the hands of the people who had always doubted him, allowing them to have that infuriating victory over him that they had held since childhood. No, for the time being, he would let them think that they were right about him. Maybe they were. But without enough effort towards the cause, how would anyone ever know? He just had to keep his chin up, and keep working at it. A little optimism never hurt anyone, even when it was completely irrational. In fact, it would make it all the more gratifying to be able to prove all of those naysayers wrong someday. He wasn't precisely sure on the "when" or the "how", but he knew that with gritted teeth, he'd make it. After all, the people in town couldn't just ignore him forever. One day, someone was bound to take interest in what he was selling.

At least he still had Norma, if nobody else had even looked his way twice his entire time in Greenville. _She _seemed to always be there for him, so faithful, so determined to see him succeed. In fact, if it hadn't been for her, he would have just left and gone home the day that he had played his song for her the first time. It seemed like an eternity ago now that he looked back on it, and for a moment or two, he wondered if perhaps they were - and still are - both wrong about him. Still...Norma always seemed so confident in him. Even more so than _he_ was, sometimes. Something as earnest as their friendship couldn't possibly be just pity or lies, could it? He didn't _think _so, but then again, there were a lot of things about Norma that still, after months of being such close friends with her, remained a mystery to him. Her personality was so bold and outgoing, he did well to be able to keep up with her, half the time. And in the two or three weeks following the party at Arthur Wiggins's house, it seemed that the same brashness that had gotten her into trouble in the first place never ceased to be creating new awkwardness.

No matter how much they pretended that they were still friends, just like old times, both the Once-Ler and Norma knew deep down that something had changed. And the reason _behind _the sudden switch was painfully obvious. Especially so for Oncie, who hadn't been able to get the scene out of his head ever since it had happened that night. He had reviewed the situation from so many different angles and perspectives, trying to figure out just what her motive had been. But even now, the aftermath of having to pretend to be Norma Harlow's serious boyfriend just left him feeling confused and more awkward around her than ever. It wasn't actually the kiss itself that had caused the uneasy rift between them; no, that much, he chalked up to her wonderful acting abilities. It was what she had said _afterwards_, about _really _falling for him, that had truly placed that uncertainty in their relationship. What was he supposed to do with information like that? Especially since, in the weeks following the party, Norma hadn't even brought up the kiss _once _in conversation. Admittedly, it wouldn't exactly be the easiest thing to discuss over lunch so casually, but nonetheless, Oncie _thought _he deserved some answers.

In the back of his mind, when he reviewed the situation from as many perspectives as he possibly could, he wondered if he were making it out to be more than it actually was. After all, they _had_ been pretending to be a couple that night, so it would have made sense for Norma to have just merely gotten caught up in the acting, rather than actually _feeling _anything for him beyond friendship in real life. Of course, they had established a strict no-kissing rule between the two of them that night, and in fact, Norma had been the one to set it up in the first place. None of it really seemed to add up. Especially since, in the time that the Once-Ler had gotten to know her, he had learned that Norma was the type of girl who always thought before she acted, approaching a situation with both her wits and her own confidence. That was what made her such a stark parallel to Oncie himself, who very rarely dwelled on _anything _he did. It was a trait that often got him into trouble, but Norma, as a good friend to him, always seemed to be able to give him advice on what to do next. And yet, it seemed the tables had been turned in this particular case.

But the strangest part wasn't the fact that she had kissed him, or even told him that she might be falling in love with him. No, the thing that really had the Once-Ler confused was the fact that ever since the party, it seemed that Norma had almost been purposefully avoiding him. They still saw each other in town every day, and he often strode right up to her in the streets and spoke to her, just as merrily as ever. But she never accepted when he invited her to lunch anymore, and sometimes, when he caught her eye and waved at her, she would just look away, chagrined. The first few days, Once-Ler had just figured that perhaps she wasn't feeling well, and didn't want to talk with anybody. But when her actions slowly but surely started becoming more consistent, a small little bubble of panic and fear had started forming in his chest, and now it was nearly ready to burst.

What if he were in danger of losing the closest friend he had in a town where nearly everybody hated him, and the ones who _didn't _were merely indifferent to him? As pathetic as it sounded, the Once-Ler had never really had very many friends, and the ones that he _had_ managed to scrounge together through his adolesence and his adult life were mostly fair-weather friends, acquaintences at the very most. If he lost Norma...then he would be pretty much _alone_, wouldn't he? Of course, there was the Lorax, who despite all their clashing, Once-Ler considered a friend. But still...what would he do without Norma to talk to during the day, when he was feeling dejected about another failed thneed-selling escapade? Who _else_ could brighten up his most almost instantly, just by giving him that same familiar smile that wrinkled up her nose and made those brown eyes gleam with delight? No, he needed her in his life, somehow, some way. And even though he had an unfortunate habit of ruining good things for himself, he was determined to set this right, once and for all. Of course, he couldn't _force_ Norma to talk to him, and in fact was sickened by the very thought of trying to make her do anything she didn't want to do, but he could at least venture to ask what was the matter. That couldn't hurt, right?

Maybe he was just overthinking the entire thing, and she really wasn't avoiding him on purpose, anyway. Perhaps it was just his mind making things seem more dramatic than they actually were, especially given his own mixed feelings about the idea of being "more-than-friends" with Norma. He supposed that it would be easier to decode her behavior if he could just allow his own emotions to settle down a bit. He had the type of personality that simply didn't allow for calm, rational thinking most of the time. Getting rid of the worry clouding his thoughts and weighing down so heavily on his chest, however, seemed like a nearly impossible task when he was actually face-to-face with it. The Once-Ler _guessed_ that he could merely sit back and allow things to run their course, but then he had to ask himself what good had sitting ever done for him? If he had decided to just sit around back at his home in the middle of nowhere, deciding to let fate align itself and take care of everything _for _him, then what progress would he have made by now? Admittedly, he hadn't made very much progress with his thneed sales anyway, but still, he was making a valiant effort, and could almost feel himself inching closer to his goal every day. He could definitely show the same grit and determination when it came to something that was just as, if not maybe a little more, important as his own dreams.

Sighing heavily, the Once-Ler closed his eyes and put his head down on the table, pushing his thin fingers through his dark hair and groaning softly into the wood of the table. Though he only remained in this position for a few seconds, it felt like an eternity before he lifted his head up once again, glancing around the room with a thin frown creasing across his face. Glancing at the letter one last time, his shoulders slumped, disenheartened by his mother's words, and he folded the note down the middle. He stood up from the creaky wooden chair at the table, crossing the room until he reached a shelf just above his bed. Retrieving his gray fedora and slapping it onto his head, he placed the letter on the shelf instead and decided to get to work cooking the animals their usual hearty pancake breakfast. After all, he had already been awake for a good portion of the morning, and suspected that they would be coming around to get their food sometime soon.

Maybe he'd even make nine whole servings today, just for the sake of getting his mind off his mother's hurtful words, and his worries that his friendship with Norma might be ruined for good. After all, he had already pretty much decided that he should just take his mother's advice and head home. The thneed obviously wasn't doing him any favors, anyway. He had gotten so frustrated with the entire thing that after getting lobbed in the face with yet another tomato, he had decided to throw the stupid thing in the garbage. He might as well just throw in the towel and admit defeat while he still had his dignity, right? Especially when he knew all too well that this entire thing was just getting to be too much for him to handle.

* * *

The morning started out quite blissfully for Norma Harlow, who had gotten up fairly early that morning to prepare for her first real job interview in months. About a week ago, she had applied for a job at the local bookstore and coffee shop, where she thought she might fit in best. Despite the bookish side to her personality, she also had a bolder, more outgoing side that would allow her to interact well with the customers, give them recommendations on good reads for the summer or more knowledge or just for leisure. She was confident enough in herself to feel certain that she already had the job in the bag, especially since only a few people had actually decided to apply for the position in the first place. A decent interview would only help seal the deal, she reasoned. Other than a few odd jobs here and there throughout the past year or so, this would be Norma's first _real _job since graduation, if she could manage to land the position that she wanted. Of course, the pay was minimum and the work hours themselves weren't exactly glamorous, but the very idea of finally being able to take care of herself, rather than having to lean so much onto her family, of finally being able to get her life started, appealed greatly to her.

When the alarm clock had alerted for her to awaken that morning, it had still been dark outside, the sky just barely beginning to turn into a lighter shade of blue with the arrival of morning. Despite her sleepiness, Norma had immediately remembered what day it was, and had practically sashayed into the shower, humming as she washed her hair and scrubbed her body clean. Several minutes longer, she had walked cheerfully back out of the bathroom, steam seeping out through the half-opened door, a towel wrapped around her head to wring the excess dampness from her curly hair. As she walked down the hallway and back into her bedroom to pick out her nicest outfit for the interview, there was an undeniable spring in her step. Envigored by her daydreams of finally beginning a brand new life spreading out, vast and shimmering gold and endless in her mind, she set to the task of retrieving her most professional-looking blouse and skirt combination from her closet's contents. She suspected that Jean would be much handier when it came to things like this, but if she wanted to start being independent, this was just as good a place to start as any. Besides, when did she need advice from a thirteen-year-old girl? She was Norma Harlow! She could handle herself! ...Right?

Underneath all that confidence and her spunky attitude, there was a definite insecurity lurking. As a very young child, Norma had struggled with self-esteem issues surrounding her short, curvy stature. Even now, her weight was still a touchy topic for her. She would have days where she felt wonderful about herself, and not a thing in the world could kill the sunny grin on her face. And other days, she looked in the mirror and wished for her hips to be just a _little _smaller, for her legs to _not _be so thick, for those stretch marks to be a little less visible. She supposed it was something that every girl was faced with from time to time; after all, how could one possibly go from day to day _always_ feeling like they're perfectly fine with themselves? Surely _everyone _had and always will have something about themselves that they wanted to change. Not just physically, but emotionally, as well. Sometimes, Norma wished that she could learn how to better hold her tongue when she became angry. Her quick temper was a trait inherited from her father, and while she was typically quite proud of her ability to be able to speak her mind so bravely, there were times when it got her into uncomfortable situations. It seemed that with Norma, there was always the perpetual struggle of wanting to be vivacious and confident with who she was, without worrying about what others thought, and wanting to be a little more softspoken, because perhaps people respected most the person who knew when to be disciplined.

Even more puzzling to her still was the fact that she wasn't even certain if she wanted to _be_ respected or not. Not by the people in Greenville, at least. Especially with the strange standards that they seemed to set for their town, despite the fact that it was relatively small and unimportant. After all, if those people could applaud and admire people like Arthur Wiggins, maybe she didn't really want to be associated with them. Or maybe a small part of her secretly _did _crave being accepted, no matter how much she insisted she wanted to stand out and apart from the crowd.

It was a confusing place at which she found herself, she had to admit.

Promptly deciding not to trouble her mind with any more of her misgivings about her own self-confidence, she cleared her throat and finally fished a decent outfit out of her closet, smoothing out the wrinkles from the fabric as she laid it out on her bed. Giving the ensemble a quick admiring glance, she smiled and nodded contentedly, then moved to quickly shut her bedroom door as she proceeded to get dressed. When she was finished, she smoothed out her skirt, grinned, then moved to inspect her outfit in front of the full-length mirror propped against the wall closest to her door. She placed her hands on her hips and stared back at her reflection with a quickly-recovered confidence, brown eyes shining behind her round glasses with an unabashed pride in herself. For today's interview, she had chosen a simple black silk blouse, with a curved, frilled collar, and a gray skirt that went to about knee-length. Around her neck, she wore the silver locket that her mother had given her as a child, containing a picture of Norma's grandmother on the inside. Over the years, it had become a sort of good-luck charm for her, and, as childish as it sounded, just having it around her neck often provided her some form of comfort.

Grinning at her reflection, Norma did a quick turn in front of the mirror before leaning a bit closer, using her fingers to try and flatten some of the frizzes out of her hair. After struggling with it for a good ten minutes before giving up on the task entirely, she sighed and retrieved a hairband from her dresser drawer, tying her hair up in a dark, wavy ponytail, allowing a few curls to stay free in the front. Once she was completely satisfied with her appearance, she nodded firmly, straightening her glasses on the bridge of her nose. Just as she was beginning to practice her introductions for when she arrived at the bookstore, however, she was intrerrupted by the sound of her bedroom door being all but thrown open. Jumping in surprise, Norma wheeled around, only relaxing when she realized that it was only Jean, holding the phone in her hand and looking extremely excited about _something_.

"Jean!" cried Norma, still recovering from being startled. "What in the world is it? Can't you ever do anything without scaring me first?" Placing her hand to her chest to calm her racing heart, she gave her head a slight shake and stared back at her sister, flabbergasted.

Jean gave an impish little giggle in response, then waved her hand dismissively. "Calm down, Norma. I do that all the time. I thought you'd be used to it by now." Snorting with laughter for a few seconds, she hesitated in the doorway for only a short moment before prancing gleefully into the room. "Anyways, I thought I'd let you know that the Once-Ler is on the phone, asking for you." At the end of her sentence, she handed the phone to Norma, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oncie?" muttered Norma, biting her lower lip and hesitating for a moment before taking the phone into her hand. "Did he say what he wanted?"

Shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders, her sister responded, "Nooooope. But from what I hear, it sounds like it's _pretty _important." Nodding matter-of-factly, she gave her sister a playful wink before skipping out of the room, red hair bouncing around her as she did so.

Oh, no. Well, _that_ couldn't be good, not at all. Especially given the current awkwardness of their relationship, and all because of what she had done at the party a few weeks ago. Holding the telephone in her hand, she blinked mutely and stared after her sister for several long seconds, debating whether or not she should pretend to be sick, in order to get out of having a conversation with him. She knew that facing what she had done would be the courageous thing to do, and Norma was hardly the type to back down from a challenging subject, but for some ungodly reason that she couldn't bring herself to understand, the very idea of having to discuss it with Oncie terrified her, all the way to her core. Perhaps it was because she was so uncertain of what his reaction would be to the situation itself; would he be disappointed in her for crossing the line like this, or would his feelings be hurt because she was avoiding him? Teetering between bringing the painful, confusing cycle to an end and just talking to him, or hanging up the phone and walking to her job interview unpertubed, she cleared her throat and glanced warily around the bedroom. After a few more seconds ticked by, she shakily lifted the phone to her ear, biting her lower lip.

"Uhm...hello? Oncie?" she answered, trying to make her voice as light and cheerful as possible.

"Norma!" came the immediate response of the Once-Ler, his voice surprisingly bright and enthusiastic, not at all like she had anticipated it to be. "Heeey, I've got _great_ news! You're never gonna believe this!" Norma furrowed her brow as she continued to listen to him speak, his voice difficult to find with all the static on the other end. In fact, it sounded like quite a commotion going on, wherever he was calling her from. She could hear the murmur of a large crowd behind him as he spoke, the uproar almost distracting her from his words.

"R-really? I - well, that's fantastic! What is it?" Grinning eagerly, she sat down on the edge of her bed, her heart now pounding with anticipation and excitement as she waited to hear what he had to say. Now that he had made it apparent that this conversation would _not _be about that dreaded little kiss at the party, she was much more willing to talk with him. She listened carefully, but even when he spoke, it was difficult for her to understand what he was saying. "Whaaaat?" she called overtop of the growing noise in the background. "Oncie, I can't hear you! What is going _on _over there?"

She heard the Once-Ler laugh giddily, and then his response came shortly afterwards. "Aaaah, there's no point tryin' to explain it to you over the phone! It's too noisy! I can barely hear you!" A short pause, and she swore, she could almost hear Oncie say to a girl in the background, 'Why of _course_ I'll sign your baby, ma'am!'. Knitting her eyebrows together in confusion, she waited for him to speak to her again. "Anyways, listen, Norma. Drop whatever you're doing right now and get over to the Truffula Valley! I've got an _awesome _surprise for you! You're not gonna believe it!"

"The Valley? W-wait, Oncie, I've got plans today - I just can't - some other time, maybe? I...Oncie? Hello?" But before she could even offer her own opinion on his plan, the phone clicked dead, leaving her with barely any information to go on. All that she knew now was that something very unusual was going on at the Once-Ler's house, and she needed to find out what.

Sighing heavily with exasperation, she hung up her phone, as well, setting it down on the top of her dresser, rather than bringing it back to the receiver. Twirling a lock of her wavy hair around her index finger, she thought for a moment on what to do. If she left now and made it back into town quickly enough after visiting the Once-Ler, then she could still make it on time for her interview. After all, she wasn't scheduled to meet the manager of the bookstore for another hour. She had only gotten up early to give herself time to prepare and calm her nerves down a bit. And what could better help that along than to spend the morning with the man she considered her best friend? Besides, she felt as if she had to make up for constantly brushing him to the side. Now that she thought about it, ignoring and purposefully avoiding the poor boy would only make things worse, and she felt like a plain old coward doing it. If Norma was anything, she wasn't cowardly.

Finally having made her decision, Norma darted downstairs and out the front door, giving her mother a quick goodbye and a hurried excuse of spending the day in town before heading on her way to the Valley.

* * *

For the first time since he had arrived in Greenville to try and sell his thneed, the Once-Ler felt that he was doing something right.

After what had seemed like an endless amount of ridicule, of gritting his teeth and trying in vain to get the world to notice him, he had at last succeeded. Just when he had been ready to give up and go home, content to spend the rest of his life wondering what might have been, that one last glimmer of hope had been restored. His leisurely breakfast with the forest animals had been quickly interrupted by quaking that shook the entire house, only to reveal that a horde of people had followed him home after his final failed attempt at selling the thneed. At first, he had feared that they had only come to tease him more, and perhaps even turn violent, but the more he had looked at the growing crowd of people, the more he had slowly begun to realize that there were smiles on their faces, and they were joyously singing his new jingle back to him. Immediately forgetting all about the Lorax and cooking the animals the rest of their breakfast, Oncie had joined the crowd in their chorus of "Everybody Needs A Thneed" with unabashed enthusiasm, hardly able to believe what was happening.

In a frenzy, the Once-Ler had been swept into the crowd, his eyes darting in all directions as people tugged on his sleeves, shouted his name, went to all sorts of lengths to get his attention just so they could tell him how amazing his invention was. All around him, there was a flurry of activity, and for several dizzying minutes, it was all Oncie could do to just hang on and enjoy the ride, a giddy smile plastered onto his face. How they had all managed to change their minds on the spot like that was a mystery to him, but he was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. All that was important now was that finally..._finally_, the citizens of Greenville had opened their eyes, and his vision of a world filled with thneeds had a starting point, at last. And of course, the first thing that he had done upon learning this news, even in the middle of all the chaos, was call his family. Needless to say, they had been overjoyed with the news of his success, and his mother had told him that they would arrive in the Valley as soon as possible to help with knitting the thneed.

When all the excitement died down a bit, the Once-Ler had managed to escape the crowd for a few moments to call Norma. Despite all his worries that perhaps she had been avoiding him, she had picked up and agreed to meet him in the Truffula Valley as soon as possible. Or, at least, he _thought_ she had. He hadn't been able to hear much of her response overtop of the roaring of the crowd around him. Hardly able to contain the excitement running all through his body, he glanced around the area, narrowing his eyes against the sunlight in search of his friend. He couldn't remember a time that he'd been so eager to see her, but for some reason, he was all too ready to share his accomplishment with her. Well, after all, she had gotten him started in the first place, being his first real customer and all. And now that he actually had a consistent amount of people waiting to buy a thneed - he'd actually been forced to create a waiting list, within the past fifteen minutes - he felt certain that he wanted Norma to have a part in helping him with the company.

If she _wanted_ to, at least. Maybe business wasn't really her style.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, he finally spotted her edging through the tight crowd of people, her eyes scanning her surroundings carefully. When she looked upwards in the direction of his cottage, the Once-Ler poked his head around the corner of the house, grinning broadly and beckoning for her. She caught his eye, her facial expression lighting up immediately, and she pranced over to his side, her curls bouncing in the ponytail she had tied it up in today. Once she was close enough to him to be able to talk without yelling across the distance, her eyes widened and she gave him a short, awed little laugh, gesturing wildly to the mob forming in the distance as people gathered their money to pay for their orders.

"Are you _kidding_?" she squealed once she had caught her breath, looking around quickly before leaping forward and snaking her arms around him in a tight embrace. Once-Ler grunted from the force of impact, and chuckled softly, inhaling the scent of her hair, heart thudding at their closeness. "Are all these people here to buy _thneeds_ from you, Oncie?" Before he could even answer, she added, "Oh, I always _knew_ that you could do it! Congratulations!"

"N-Norma, Norma...easy...I can't breathe." Laughing softly, he steadied himself quickly before placing his arms on her shoulders, trying to loosen her grip on him just a tad. Giving her a lopsided, boyish grin, he felt his cheeks turn a light shade of pink as he nodded eagerly and let out a boisterous, giddy little laugh. Blue eyes bright with enthusiasm, he glanced around the valley, offering all his brand-new customers another wave before turning back to her, his chest rising and falling rapidly with the excitement of the moment. Captivated by all this new attention he was suddenly showered with, he gave another shaky laugh before adding, "Yeah! I-I was beginning to think it'd _never_ happen, that my family was right about me...b-but look at this! They were totally wrong! I always knew it!"

Norma felt her heart lift as she caught sight of the confidence in his gaze as he stared out along the horizon, still awestruck by the sheer amount of people that had followed the Once-Ler here, all for the sake of buying a thneed. Breaking away from the embrace to properly look him in the eyes, she gave him a sunny smile in return and nudged him in the ribs playfully. "See? What did I tell you? All your hard work paid off, didn't it, Stilts?"

"_Totally_! I wouldn't trade this for - waaaait a minute." Allowing himself a few seconds to actually comprehend the meaning behind the words leaving Norma's mouth, he raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side slightly, a bemused expression flickering across his features. "Did you just call me 'Stilts'?" A smirk lifted the corners of his lips, and he couldn't help but snicker a little, despite his misgivings about the nickname.

Shrugging her shoulders innocently, Norma laughed a little and responded quickly, somewhat defensively, "Weeeeell, you don't like the nickname 'Oncie'. I've gotta call you _something_."

Just as she paused to consider this, however, she was pushed quickly to the side by the mob of people, all of them having finally noticed that the Once-Ler hadn't gotten started working on their thneeds yet. Grunting as she stumbled and hit the grassy earth beneath her, she cringed at the sickening crack of glass underneath her palm. Sure enough, when she had been knocked to the ground by the stampede of Greenville citizens, her glasses had been knocked off her face entirely, only to be crushed when she tumbled on top of them. The Once-Ler frowned with concern as he saw this over the tops of the heads of the multitude, craning his neck to try and get a better look. Dodging this way and that as he tried to communicate with Norma, he soon found himself being nearly forcibly dragged away by the townspeople.

"Norma!" he called after her, still struggling his way through the crowd, fighting back a frustrated grimace. "H-hey, Norma! I'll talk to you later, okay?" He raised his eyebrows expectantly, wondering if she could even properly hear him at this point.

"Of...of course, Oncie!" she answered in return, her voice faint in the distance as he edged farther and farther away from his house.

He only hoped she would live up to her word.


	12. Chapter Twelve: The Work Begins

"I am _so_ sorry about this," apologized the Once-Ler for the upteenth time as he affixed yet another piece of clear tape around the bridge of Norma's glasses, where they had snapped cleany in two after his customers had all but stampeded her into the dirt. His fingers were deft and practiced, careful not to harm the cracked lenses to a further degree. "Uhm, ohoookaaay here . . . I did the best I could with 'em, but I don't know if they'll do you any good. Here, see how they work."

As he gingerly handed her the spectacles, Norma answered, "It's _okay_, Once-Ler. Really. It's not your fault. There's no way you could have held back all those people."

Situating the glasses on her face, she frowned, discouraged as they sat slightly asunder on the bridge of her nose. The lenses were cracked, the right one especially, but not to the point where it was difficult to see. She was impressed that they had been restored to even this point; when she had finally met up with the Once-Ler at his house at the end of the day, the eyewear had looked to be broken beyond repair. Immediately, Oncie had offored to repair them. The task had taken hours, though it likely would have gone by much faster if the Once-Ler hadn't felt the need to talk with animated hand gestures while working, punctuating every available silence. His energy was nigh impossible to contain and his entire body seemed to buzz with an exuberance that hadn't left him all day.

"Well, _still_," he continued stubbornly, an indignant redness on his cheeks. "They can't just _trample_ on you like that. They could've at least said 'excuse me' or something." He shook his head with a firm disapproval, then stepped back slightly to get a look for himself at Norma's repaired glasses. "How do they feel?" he asked, biting his lower lip and giving her an expectant look. "They don't look . . . _so_ bad."

"They're just fine," said Norma. "Not too shabby, Stilts." A wide grin playing across her features, she snorted playfully as she caught the look on his face at the mention of his new nickname. "Or, well, maybe now I should start calling you something more professional?"

Laughing giddily in return, too elated to even bother with being ruffled at her choice of pet names, Once-Ler gave a dreamy sigh and sat down on the edge of his bed, his long legs crossed casually at the ankles. "Oh, _man_, can you _believe _it, Norma? 'Cause this is . . . this is huge! I mean, I'm talkin' about _life-changing_! This is life-changing stuff here! Finally! I was startin' to think that maybe it wouldn't ever happen! I mean, I was planning on going home today, Norma. I really was. And then . . . well, this _totally _changed my mind!"

The Once-Ler threw his hands gleefully in the air, laughing once again as the exhilaration of acceptance and approval made his head spin. A thousands thoughts a minute raced through Norma's mind as she watched the man who had quickly become her dearest friend gain all that he had hoped for in a matter of hours. All those days that he had spent working _so _hard at last seemed to be paying off. It was a little disorienting to Norma, how swiftly fame seemed to come up on a person. Just yesterday - no, just _this morning _- her friend had been merely getting by on the skin of his teeth, always pushed to the brink of defeat but struggling his way back to optimism regardless. And now here he was, being swept into the spotlight, finally given a chance to "prove himself", as he had always worded it. (Personally, Norma had always believed that the Once-Ler needn't try so hard to prove his own worth - it was always right there on his face for the whole world to see.)

And although she was thrilled for Oncie and believed that yes, he did deserve all this newfound success, there was another, smaller part of her that couldn't help but think a tad more selfishly. After all, now that he was a big, successful businessman, what was to become of his friendship with her? Sure, they had become very close during the time that he had been struggling to sell his invention, but now that he had finally "hit the big time", Norma had to wonder if he would even really _need _her anymore. He no longer had to ask her for help writing his jingles, or to come by the Valley and take a look at the new plans he had written up, or to just be there when he needed to vent about the lows of entrepreneurship. And Norma herself really knew very little when it came to business; perhaps he would find someone much more important than her, and rearrange his priorities a little. As confident as she was about herself, she was aware that compared to the perks that came with stardom, she was decidedly _un_-glamorous. How long would it take the Once-Ler to realize that, as well . . . ?

Realizing how pessimistic and self-depracating she was being, Norma shook herself and snapped out of her reverie, offoring her friend a broad grin in return. Since when had she become such a negative thinker? He had only just started selling thneeds, after all. There was no telling where this would take them, and it was incredibly unfair for her to immediately assume that the Once-Ler would follow the same path as Arthur, abandoning her to climb the social ladder, so to speak. After all, even after he had managed to sell _her _a thneed, he had still continued his friendship with her. To compare Oncie to Arthur Wiggins simply because she was still hurt over something that didn't even involve her new friend set an unfair standard for the Once-Ler, and she didn't want to project her anxieties from the past onto him.

"Well, I'm certainly glad you decided not to go home, after all," said Norma, perching herself beside him on the bed, situating her hand comfortably on his shoulder. "Look at you! Movin' on up!" She allowed herself a soft laugh, then leaned in to hug him, arms steeling themselves around his middle. "I'm really proud of you, Once-Ler," she added, closing her eyes and resting her chin against the curve of his shoulder, her tone softening.

Her heart ached at the familiarity of his scent; he smelled clean and natural, like . . . like _boy_. They were so close that she could hear the rustling of fabric as they shifted in the embrace, their arms tightening comfortably around one another, his fingers idly sliding up and down the length of her spine. She could feel his heartbeat, soft and gentle, thrumming like a bird beating its wings against a cage. He seemed suddenly nervous, his hands quaking somewhat, his breathing a little trembly despite its slow, evenness. Even so, this was comfortable, and for the first time, just the sensation of being near to him made Norma's chest tighten with a strange sort of happiness. It was different for them to be so soft and loving with each other, an odd change of pace from their usual banter, but she somehow felt that they ought not shy away from it.

"Thanks for everything," he answered at last, his voice hunkering low in his throat. Clearing his throat, he murmured, "Couldn't have done any of it without you, y'know." He stilled for a moment, his breathing stirring Norma's curls for a moment before he pulled back, his hands on her shoulders. A broad, boyish grin spread onto his face as he added, energetic and excited once again, "And that's why I want you to have a part in this, Norma!"

"Wh-what?" she stammered. Bemused, she gave her head a small shake, though she couldn't help the grin tugging at the corners of her lips. "What are you talking about, Oncie? You really want _my _help? I-I'm afraid I don't know very much about . . . about running businesses and things like that."

Waving his hand artlessly, he leaned forward excitedly, sliding his hands down from her shoulders to seize her wrists gently. "In that case, then we can learn _together_, can't we? I mean, how hard can it be? And it won't just be the two of us all alone. My family's coming down to help out with production, so we'll have extra hands around." Biting his lower lip eagerly, he gave her a pleading look as he added, "And I really could use a creative consultant. S-so, um, what d'you say?"

Norma paused, all of this information at once quite a bit to take in. She supposed that it did make a great deal of sense. They had come this far together, so why not continue the endeavor together, as well? It would be exciting, the chance for both of them to finally see things and go places and be something more than just the small town of Greenville. It was what they had craved for so long, and Norma couldn't just turn away from their plans so quickly. They did make a good team, and she certainly owed him for the night that he had pretended to be her boyfriend at Arthur's party. She still felt guilty for ignoring him after all that, and perhaps being a team once again would give them ample time to talk about it and remove all the residual awkwardness from their relationship.

She wasn't even sure why she had started ignoring him in the first place. After all, she was always trying to prove that she was mature for nineteen years old, but avoiding the Once-Ler was an incredibly childish defense mechanism. He had done absolutely nothing to deserve her cold shoulder, and yet she had administered it regardless, perhaps because it made her uncomfortable to face what had happened at the party. It had been s_he _who had established the 'no-kissing' rule, quite firmly so, and for a while afterwards, she had been afraid that Oncie might hold that against her or count it as a deception of his trust. She hadn't _meant_ it like that, not at all. She had just been seized by a sudden idea, a nagging curiosity that had pushed her forward, and given him that little kiss on the cheek.

That's all it was, just a peck on the cheek. Friends could kiss one another's cheeks. Of course they could! And Norma was being foolish to make anything more of it. . . . Wasn't she?

_Maybe not_, she reminded herself, acknowledging thoughts about her best friend that, from the very beginning, she had tried so hard to fight. _Remember how excited you were that night about going on a date - even a pretend date - with the Once-Ler? And Jean _did _say you looked genuinely happy. Maybe one little kiss on the cheek is more than you think._

"Norma?" came the Once-Ler's voice, thankfully drawing her out of her own intimidating thoughts. She would face those later, she decided, when she had some time to herself to really let all of it sink in. "It kiiiiiiinda worries me that you're takin' this long to think about it." He laughed nervously, gazing uncertainly at her.

"Oh," she gasped, as if she were finally recalling his existence. Laughing shakily, she continued, trying to hide how suddenly flustered she had become, "I'm sorry, Oncie. I guess I zoned out there for a minute. Anyway, um . . . yes. My answer is yes." Smoothing out her skirt, she blushed, staring down at her lap before looking up at him with a soft smile. "I look forward to working with you. _Again_. Will there be cheesy songs involved this time around?"

"In _spades_," he answered with a laugh. His entire face lit up with an unabashed energy, and the Once-Ler was lost in his own spastic euphoria as he said giddily, "So you'll do it? You really, really will?" Norma nodded quickly and grinned in return, the smile on Oncie's face incredibly contagious. "Oh, man! It's gonna be so great! You'll see. I've been planning this for a reeeeeaally long time, so I've got it all figured out. And, well . . . well now that I've got your _help, _it'll be even better!"

"Well, I don't know how much help I'll turn out to be, but I'm willing to try." Norma winked, then reached up to fix the cowlick in the Once-Ler's hair, chuckling when his face turned dark pink. "When does work start?"

"Uuuuuhm, well, my family's gonna get here as soon as they can, and the trip from my house isn't all that long . . . maybe three days from now? I mean, unless you wanna start helping me out earlier than that. I've got a lot of orders to fill." He gestured over to a large stack of papers piling up on the drafting table pushed against the wall, looking exhausted and overworked already.

Norma blinked in surprise at the sheer size of the tower of paperwork, amazed at how quickly the Once-Ler's business seemed to take off. It made her wonder if success and celebrity status was typically gained like this, out-of-the-blue skyrocketing to the fame after coming close to hitting rock bottom. She couldn't imagine how her friend would be able to cope with all this work. In the time that she had known him, she had discovered that he didn't deal very well with pressure or stress, and tended to become quite easily overwhelmed. Still, though, if he really had been planning this out for as long as he said, then she was fully confident he could handle himself. They would both just have to wait and see where the business took them.

"We don't have to start on those right now, though. Not tonight. I'll get started on 'em when you go home, but for now, we should just hang out." Crossing his legs and scooting back onto the bed so that his back leaned against the headboard, he gave her an apologetic, sheepish grin. "Sorry again about what happened today. I'm glad you still came over anyway."

"Of course I did," said Norma, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I like being with you. And . . . and I also feel like I owe you an apology." Clearing her throat, she glanced tentatively upward at him before continuing, feeling her cheeks turn slightly pink. "I hope I haven't hurt your feelings, avoiding you all week like that." She felt her stomach drop as she caught the hurt flicker briefly in his eyes; admitting to her cowardice became suddenly much more difficult as she tried to hold his gaze.

The Once-Ler's smile dropped a little and he looked down at his lap, embarrassed. His face was incredibly red, the color flooding to the tips of his ears and bleeding down to his neck, as well. "So that _was_ on purpose, huh?" he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as if he could somehow brush away the mortification.

"I'm sorry," she winced. "I-I know you must think me cowardly and - and flighty, but . . . I don't know, I suppose I was just . . . confused." Sighing, she smoothed out her skirt and tried to get her hands to stop their nervous fidgeting, biting her lower lip thoughtfully. "Ever since what happened at the party, I - "

"Norma," he stopped her, his voice suddenly soft. "Don't, okay? Don't do that." He took a moment to compose himself, then, having gathered his courage, looked up for his lap and directly into her eyes, his own expression uncharacteristically shy and uncertain.

It was as vulnerable as Norma had ever seen him before, and though part of her was almost _afraid _of them being so defenseless with each other, another, stronger part of her realized that this was a new level of closeness for the two of them, an opportunity to really understand how one another worked. She had never seen him quite like this before; he was always so loud, so energetic, so outgoing, that he never really seemed to slow down. Norma supposed that it had never occurred to her before now that there might be something a little subtler beneath that big, emotional, almost childish personality. Perhaps there was a little bit more to _both _of them.

Presently, Norma asked quietly, "What do you mean? Don't do what?"

He sighed, taking a moment to choose his words carefully. Sometimes, he let his excitable tendencies get the best of him and he ended up talking too quickly for his own thoughts. When he had weighed his options, he answered, giving her a tiny smile, "I _mean_ . . . don't try to make something out of what happened, okay? You didn't have to be scared of talkin' to me after the party. I mean, I totally get it. I wasn't upset or anything." He fell silent for a moment, then nudged her playfully, the smile on his face widening somewhat as he added softly, "Relax, 'kay?"

"Oh. Okay," she answered, crumpling in on herself and laughing as he nudged her elbow. When she righted her position again, she smiled at the Once-Ler, much more genuinely this time, and said, "I was just so scared that I had accidentally made things . . . awkward. I shouldn't have pulled you into that ridiculous problem with Arthur in the first place, I just panicked. And it was so good of you to go along with it. And after you were _such _a good sport with me, I went and hurt your feelings . . . o-oh, I _didn't_ hurt your feelings, did I?"

"Hey, don't worry about it," he answered vaguely with a shrug. It wasn't really an answer to her question, but Norma thought she got the point, especially when he added, "I know you didn't mean anything by it. I guess I'm just one of those people who takes everything _waaaaay_ too much to heart, y'know?"

"I'm sorry," said Norma. There was a pause, and then she spoke tentatively. "I didn't want that. I wanted . . . well, I don't even _know_ what I wanted." Though somewhere in her heart of hearts, she suspected that she knew _exactly_ what she had wanted when she had kissed the Once-Ler, and what she _still_ wanted now. Chasing away those thoughts for now, she said quickly, "But I know that . . . that no matter what I was after, I never wanted to hurt your feelings. You're very special to me."

The Once-Ler smiled and looked down at his hands before glancing back up at Norma. "I've never been special to anybody before," he told her, as if he could hardly believe it. "But I think I'm glad you're the first. 'Cause you're special to me, too."

There was a long spell of silence between them, his blue eyes studying her brown with a softness that she had never seen there before. Norma felt her stomach clench, partially unsure and afraid of this unknown territory, partially thrilled by the changed atmosphere between the two of them. Other than to her family, she had never really been special to anyone, either. How frightening and exciting a responsibility it was to mean something that much to another person! Perhaps the best part of it all was the reciprocity - the fact that someone she cared for very deeply cared for her in return.

Oncie was the one to break the silence, clearing his throat and moving away from her slightly, as if he had suddenly snapped out of a trance. He gave her one of his signature lopsided, boyish grins and hopped from the bed, moving over to fetch his knitting needles and a massive mound of pink Truffula tufts. As he headed over to his desk, an awkward laugh escaped his lips, disjointed and hitting the air at an uncomfortable, nervous pitch. The Once-Ler busied his hands with his work, his leg bouncing restlessly.

"Well, looks like I oughta get back to work," he stated quickly, with a very obviously false air of insouciance. "Thneeds don't make themselves, y'know! Aha. Yeah. Um, Norma, it looks like I've got a _ton _to do, sooooo . . . maybe come back tomorrow? It _is _gettin' kinda late, after all."

"Oh, er . . . a-alright! Of course!" she chirped in response, somewhat jarred by his sudden change in attitude. Blushing darkly as she realized that he must have been scared of the new vulnerabilty between them, as well, she stood from his bed, looking down at her feet as she added, "G'night, Oncie. I'll see you again tomorrow, okay?"

As she headed for the door, she heard him say behind her, "Okay! Sounds perfect. See you then!"

Norma took this for an answer, then stepped out of his home, though not without first turning back to give him one last wave goodbye. Once the door had closed behind her, she made it a point to get home as quickly as possible.

Clearly, she had some thinking to do.

* * *

The Once-Ler's family was good on their word ("for a change", as noted by Oncie himself), and arrived in the Truffula Valley three days following what he now reforred to as the Thneed Stampede. They had shown up in that same old beaten-up, rumbling, gas-guzzling R.V. that had served the family faithfully since before he was even born, the sounds of their car horn trumpeting on the horizon. He had been greeted with such a positive reception from such typically negative people that it had all been a little bit overwhelming at first; when it finally had come time to assign his family to work, he hadn't even known where to start. Eventually, he had decided it best to set to work picking the tufts of the Truffula trees, since the process was especially slow and he thought it a good idea to get a head-start on production. His family had immediately set to work.

All except his mother; Susie Once-ler, a bony, tight-lipped woman with an oversized blonde bouffant, crisply manicured nails, a languid Southern accent, and a penchant for fox furs. She had never really been the sort of person who involved herself with manual labor, instead preforring to be the one in charge at all times. After all, in her mind, giving orders was much easier than executing them.

(To a certain extent, the Once-Ler thought that perhaps he had inherited part of this line of thinking from her, though not to the same degree; he had always hated being told what to do with his life, but unlike his mother, did not feel the need to be in control at all times. The idea of simply being acknowledged for his skill and talent was quite enough for him.)

Pointedly ignoring her son's suggestions for her to start to work helping Chet and Brett pluck tufts from the trees, she had strolled casually over to admire the Once-Ler's modest tent. A blush had immediately risen to his cheeks as he had caught the disdainful curl of her upper lip, the thoughtful lifting of her eyebrows as she had pinched the material of the tent between her thumb and forefinger and rubbed, as if she could somehow tell how cheap it was through the cloth fibers. Peering at every nook and cranny, she had finally turned back to Oncie, her detective work promptly finished, and given him a 100-watt smile. It didn't quite seem genuine, but after so many years of getting sneered at, the Once-Ler was certainly not one to argue.

"Soooooo . . . d'you like it? The tent, I mean." he asked her tentatively, careful to keep his posture immaculate in front of her critical eye. "I know it's not _much_, but I thought it'd do for now, until I could really get this business off the ground. I've already gotten started on some blueprints for the new factory and all, I just haven't figured out where I'd put it yet . . . " When she said nothing, only listening to him, his voice trailed off awkwardly and he gave a nervous laugh, not accustomed to getting a word in edgewise when it came to his mother.

Susie nodded her head demurely, attempting to toss her hair (unfortunately, her hair had enough hairspray in it to belong to a politician's mistress, and therefore did not budge). "Yes, I reckon it'll do for now. 'Course, you _did _describe it in all your letters you wrote me as a little . . . _bigger_. It's right small, Oncie. But don't y'all worry none! There'll be plenty of time later to get thangs runnin' how they oughta. Right now, why don't y'all c'mere 'n visit with your mama!"

The woman, who was at least a good foot shorter than her gangly son, stood up on tiptoe and secured her arms around his neck in an awkward, sloppy hug. He bent his knees and leaned over slightly to accomodate to the height difforence, but this position was especially comfortable; his legs wobbled as he tried to keep his balance instead of toppling over in his typical ungainly way. The almost-acrid vanilla smell of her perfume burned his nostrils and made him choke. (Why some women, including his mother, felt the need to smell like dessert foods all the time, was beyond him.) Still, despite his discomfort, he returned his mother's embrace, because he didn't get this sort of treatment from her often and certainly didn't want to waste a moment such as this. It would take some getting used to this new dynamic, but after so many years of fighting for acceptance and just plain _acknowledgement_, then who was he to argue?

The Once-Ler had to admit, though, this was bizarre, to say the very least. He had never seen his mother quite so enthused about spending time with him, especially where talk of his business was concerned. She had resented him for it from the very beginning, constantly belittling him for his decision to start selling thneeds right out of high school, rather than go to college. (Also, a part of him, though very small, had always suspected that his strong physical resemblance to his father, a man by the name of Eugene, had also given his mother an aversion to Oncie from the beginning.) Seeing her with such a changed attitude, so happy to actually take time to listen to him and act as though she valued his opinions, was a little like stepping into the Twilight Zone. He had to wonder how long such a streak would last before things slipped back into their state of cynical normalcy.

Never one to be negative, he decided to take the new attention in stride. After all, he had certainly _worked _hard enough for it. Why in the world should he make himself feel _bad_ about finally getting this new love and approval from his family? He _deserved_ this, after month upon month of getting tomatoes tossed at his face, or hearing snickers and jeers and criticisms left and right. He had done the impossible, created something that could be quite literally _anything_. By promising consumers such endless possibilities, he could ask them to pay for the moon when really, they were paying for very little! It was a genius business move, and not only would it get _him _the money that he so desperately wanted and _needed_, but it would help the people, as well! After all, if the thneed could be everything at once, then it was a giant step forward for all of humankind! Only good things could come from such a vastly open-ended product! Why _shouldn't _he be allowed to be a little self-congratulatory?

"Aha, it's really good to see you, Mom," Oncie answered, patting her back a little stiffly before pulling back from the embrace, righting his posture once again. Beaming down at her with that same typical confidence, he added, "Looks like all your, uh, ehe . . . _motivating _worked out preeeeeetty darn well, huh?"

Susie laughed squeakily. "Well, of _course_ it did, sugar! I wouldn't have _done _it if it wasn't in your best interest." Pinching his cheek, she gave him a very familiar, saccarine smile, adding in an equally sweet voice, "I always told ya, whateeeeever I do, it's 'cause I love you. Don't you let no one tell ya different."

Her tone still sounded suspiciously false, and the Once-Ler caught onto this quickly, but decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and accepted her words as genuine. He had waited _so_ long for this, after all, to be accepted. So why was he ruining it for himself? Sure, it didn't really feel so _good_ to have his mother waltz into the forest and assume the credit for his success. _He _had been the one to work for this - it was _his _job, _he_ earned it. But she _was_ his mother, and he'd never want to contradict her and risk losing her approval, especially right after he had gained it to begin with.

"Right! Sooooo, uh . . . you wanted to talk business with me, right?" he asked, raising his eyebrows curiously. "About _what_, exactly? I-I mean, I already had some pretty specific ideas that I could let you take a look at - "

"Oh, well, honey, I sure don't mean to step on your toes, but them ol' ideas ain't gonna work." She waved her hand blithely. "Of course, I could always modify what you've already got down on paper, but I can already tell ya that without my insight, the factory y'all've got in mind ain't gon' last a day. I can help a little with that."

"A-aaaaare you _sure_? 'Cause you haven't even looked at it yet, and I've been working really hard to make sure that everything runs according to my plans - "

Susie cut him off once again, her voice a little crisper this time, thinly disguising the beginnings of her irritation. "Well! Then I'll just have to take a look at those _plans _you got there, and _then_ we'll discuss it. _Later_. Alright, Oncie?" Though her tone arched upwards questioningly at the end of her sentence, her eyebrows raised expectantly and he knew that it wasn't a question at all, but an _order_.

"R-right. Right. Okay, uh . . . in that case, aaaaah, is there anything else you needed to talk to me about, Mom?" Once-Ler fished, trying to keep the conversation from trickling off on a low note.

As if on cue, his mother gave a dainty little gasp, a grin lifting the corners of her thin lips. "Actually, that reminds me! We were all talkin' on the way up here, and we thought all your little customers would be just tickled pink if we threw a party to celebrate your business takin' off!" Clapping her hands together excitedly, her eyes widened with enthusiasm behind her square, blue-rimmed spectacles and she added, "We could have it at the classiest place in town - wherever _that _is, 'cause I ain't seen nothin' but trees yet - and then just _think _how popular you'd be! All that publicity!"

The Once-Ler couldn't help but daydream about it, as if on command. A whole party just to celebrate his invention? Well, he had to admit, the thought had crossed his mind on more than one occassion. Still, regardless of all the times he had dreamt of it, wished for it, he had never in all his dreaming imagined that his mother, of all people, would be the one to want to celebrate his stardom to begin with. His thoughts spun dizzily for a moment as he tried to get a good grip on all that was happening, but this task proved too vexing, and so eventually, he gave it up. Why should he have to constantly stop himself and justify all this new attention that he was getting from his family? It was what he had wanted all along, so he might as well just enjoy it and stop trying so hard to understand it. Who cared if all of this adoration was so sudden? They were finally paying attention to him, and though it was a tad overwhelming to think about, he shouldn't have to overanalyze every last detail.

"Hey, yeah, that sounds great, Mom!" he replied, smiling and nodding his head vigorously. "I mean, I don't know if I'd be able to throw one _riiiiight_ away, just because I've got a lot of work piling up on me. But once the factory finally goes up and we've got a steady business going, then sure thing! Totally! Go for it!"

Seeming satisfied by her son's reasoning, Susie gave a quick nod, then grinned and pinched the Once-Ler's rounded cheek. "Oh, I just _knew_ you'd agree, Oncie! I knew you'd think it was a good idea! How could you _not_, right? Of course, we'll come back and discuss the idea later, but right now there's work to be done! Money to make!"

And, without another word, she pranced away, leaving the Once-Ler stunned and a little windswept. Blinking, he stared after her for a moment as she walked over to join his aunt Grizelda with harvesting Truffula tufts, making certain that she was indeed going to work rather than just throw more time out the window chatting. After a pause, he turned to walk in the opposite direction, towards Chet and Brett where they manned the wheelbarrow. The wheelbarrow was steadily becoming full of the brightly-colored tufts, the smell of butterfly milk hanging heavily in the air. The twins were busy yanking and pulling sloppily at the trees, and Oncie cringed when he caught sight of their brutality. Glancing around quickly to make sure that the Lorax was nowhere in sight, he hurried over to his brothers, speedily explaining the proper method to tuft-harvesting. Fixing that problem, however, led directly to another one. When he looked up from the wheelbarrow, he saw a tiny silhouette moving downhill, in the direction of the Once-Ler and his family.

Norma. He recognized the frizzy cloud of brown hair almost immediately.

To be perfectly honest, he had been so busy in the three days following his last conversation with Norma at his house, he hadn't even had the time to think of her. Of course, she had passed fleetingly through his thoughts on and off throughout the day, when he had the time to sit back and allow his mind to ease away from business and blueprints for a few precious seconds. But he had yet to allow himself the leisure of slacking off his work and taking a few minutes to give their current relationship any thought. Much as he did think that he needed to mull things over, he had been fully submerged in work - and some part of him thought that even if he _had _had the free time, he would have been too scared to even face those thoughts yet. They were new and complicated, and now that he had a business to balance on the other hand, as well, they were likely unnecessary.

Despite how much he told himself the feelings were _not _supposed to be happening, he couldn't help but notice that she looked pretty today, with the afternoon sun accenting the natural reddish-brown highlights in her curls, her brown eyes bright. Her mint green sundress belled out around her thighs, moving slightly in the breeze. As she approached him, her hair stirred in the wind and she gave him a light, playful wave. Returning the gesture, his heart helplessly stuttering for a moment in his chest, he walked over to meet her, his long legs closing the gap between them quickly.

"Hey, stranger," he greeted, grinning in his lopsided, boyish way. He rested his hands low on his hips, then said, "What're you doing down here? It's kinda crazy right now." He laughed sheepishly and gestured over his shoulder, where his family scuttled in the background, busily collecting tufts.

Norma smiled, eyes glinting. "Well, as your Creative Consultant, I wanted to come down here and see if you needed any help."

"Weeeeeeell . . . " he paused, then surveyed the area quickly. "I think we're good here, actually. My family's working and all, soooo . . . " he gasped, an idea suddenly occuring to him, and he spun on his heel to face Norma. Eyes wide, he grinned and said brightly, "Hey, d'you wanna go take a walk with me? We could, y'know, sneak away from them for a little while. I can always get back to work later, but we could just hang out for a little while. Since you had to leave so early last time you came by," he added, looking away and blushing heavily before gathering the courage to glance back at her. "What d'you say?"

She glanced over his shoulder, unsure for a moment if they should leave his family to do the work while they slacked off. The Once-Ler was always like this, spontaneous and impulsive, where Norma was always the one to do the thinking before leaping. Still, she had to admit, she had always admired his spontaneity to a certain extent, and now was her chance to just escape and have fun for a while.

So, it was with an even broader smile than before that Norma reached for his hand, nodded, and said, "I say that sounds great. C'mon! Let's go!"

Rather than the Once-Ler, this time Norma was the one to lead the way downhill.


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Epiphany

They made their way downhill, Norma taking the lead, until the sun had almost completely disappeared beyond the horizon, setting the sky ablaze in shades of coral, blue, and orange. The Truffula trees swayed in the breeze, and even though they were far out of the line of sight of the Once-Ler's family, he could still hear in the distance his aunt Grizelda barking orders to his twin brothers. For a moment, he felt uneasy, and wondered if he should perhaps head back. After all, with all this work to do, and his business still brand-new, his family could easily upset the balance of things and mess everything up. He hoped most of all that they did not anger the Lorax, or else run the risk of being kicked out of the forest entirely. Glancing over his shoulder in the direction of the shouting, he sighed and, after a brief pause, shrugged and decided to continue on his merry way. They could handle things on their own for a while . . . he supposed. And besides, he wouldn't be gone long. He could easily head back if he suspected things were going too haywire.

At last, Norma and the Once-Ler reached a level ground; their walking slowed, no longer propelled forward by the slope of the hill, and he fell into step directly beside her. He was careful to keep his strides small, but even so, he couldn't help how tall and long-legged he was. Three of Norma's tiny steps equalled one of his. He stole a quick glance at her, smiling at the familiar bouncing of her curly hair around her shoulders, and contemplated for just a second if he should reach for her hand. He wouldn't want to be too forward with her, of course, especially since their friendship was just starting to return to normal following the party with Arthur. And after all, he hadn't yet figured out what he was feeling himself. He _supposed_ he knew what it was, but he still couldn't make it all make sense. He needed time to think before just jumping in and creating more awkwardness. Instead, he just settled for whistling to cover the silence, stuffing his hands in his pockets and squinting against the sunset, bright and hot in his eyes.

He concentrated on the tune he was whistling, rather than allowing himself to acknowledge the thoughts ghosting around the corners of his mind, nagging him, pressuring him. They were unusual and intimidating, though not without their own thrill, as well, which made them that much harder to ignore. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the melody issuing from his puckered lips, the thought of actually having feelings for Norma kept popping back into his head. What if it was _true_? What if he _did_? In fact, he was almost certain by now that he did; what was uncertain was whether or not he would ever summon up the courage to tell her so. After a lifetime of being rejected and fearing being left alone and unaccepted, it was harder for him to tell people such vulnerable things, despite how strong his emotions were. (And this in itself was torture enough, because he was the type to feel everything so intensely, but never be able to get it off his chest without a good deal of awkwardness. Norma's friendship was special to him, and he certainly wouldn't want to ruin it if his affections were unreturned.)

Would she even feel the same way about him? After all, he knew he was dorky and loud, and had the tendency to be a bit overbearing . . . but he was a nice guy. Nice enough. And with this new business of his, he would always be able to provide for her; she had never been poor, and as long as he could help it, she would never have to be. But Norma deserved better than "nice enough".

There was no ushering away the thoughts now; they came into his mind at full-speed, hitting him like a freight train, without warning. They were louder, busier, harder to ignore.

"Oh, look! There's the river! We can go sit down there with the Humming Fish, Oncie!" said Norma excitedly. Her fingers brushed against his hand for an instant, and she looked up at him, eyes wide. "Maybe I'd finally get to see them this time?" (The Humming Fish were uncharacteristically shy around Norma, and never seemed to come out of hiding when she was around. Oncie had always wondered why they were so scared of her and not him, for she had a much gentler personality than he.)

Grateful for the chance to be away from his own nagging thoughts for a while, he cleared his throat and nodded, smiling broadly. "Yeah, you're right! Maybe if we're lucky we can sneak up on them. They like singing while the sun sets." Fiddling absently with the rim of his fedora, he added, "If they're a no-show, then I could always sing for you again. I dunno if it'd be the same or not, buuuuut I thought I might as well offer." He grinned playfully, nudging her lightly with his elbow.

"Your ego is showing, Once-Ler," she giggled, nudging him in return. She paused a moment, then asked, a bit more seriously, "So now that you've got all this business and work to keep you busy, are you still going to keep with your music?" She tilted her head to the side curiously. "I mean, I know you have a lot on your plate with this new factory you were talking about. I was just wondering."

"Yeah, I think I will," he answered with a nod. He smiled and looked over at her, folding his arms neatly across his chest as he added thoughtfully, "I don't think I could ever really imagine myself _without _music, y'know? I mean, have you ever had something that just sticks with you no matter what? Like an accent or a weird-looking birthmark? Well, I guess, in a way, singing and playing guitar is . . . my weird birthmark." The two of them laughed in unison at this, and he rubbed the back of his neck, his face bright and jubilant.

Norma reached for his hand, gently lacing her fingers through his, causing the Once-Ler's heart to thump restlessly behind his rib cage. "That's good," she said, her voice soft, but light. "I think I'd miss it too much if you ever stopped. I've always thought you were really talented."

"You're talented, too," he replied, a little sheepishly, as he squeezed her hand gently. "You're gonna be one heck of a writer one day." At her dubious facial expression, he added, his voice softening somewhat, "Hey, I'm serious. It'll happen one day, Norma. You'll see. And then maybe _you'll_ be the one needing _me_ as a Creative Consultant."

After a short pause, she mumbled shyly, "You've got way too much confidence in me, you know that?" She blushed, leaning closer to him with a soft smile as she said, "Thank you anyway, though. It's very sweet." She was not tall enough to reach his shoulder, so she leaned her head against his upper arm and sighed softly, their pace slowing to a more casual stroll.

"Construction on the new factory begins this week," said the Once-Ler absently when the silence had stretched for a while. He looked up at the sky, blinking past the sunlight, then glanced back to Norma with a tiny, enthusiastic grin. "If we get started early enough, we should have it done within two months. And then all this harvesting-for-tufts business will be _so _much easier."

Norma did not appear as thrilled with this idea as Oncie had anticipated that she would be. She was smiling, yes, but it appeared tight and a little forced. There was a sudden nervousness in her eyes that made him uneasy. He had seen that look on her face before, and he knew her well enough by now to understand that it meant she had something on her mind, and she was never shy to tell him the details.

"What's wrong?" he asked her, scratching the back of his neck.

"Oh, nothing, really," she answered with a shrug, shaking her head quickly. "I was just wondering something." After a moment's pause, she bit her lip, tilting her head to the side as she questioned lightly, "Where exactly are you planning on _building _the new factory? I-I mean, in order to build one here, you'd need to chop down the trees to make room . . . " her voice trailed off and an awkward silence followed.

The Once-Ler cleared his throat, the sound pervading the quietness. "Yeah," he answered, nodding his head quickly. His brow furrowed as he added softly, "I'm still trying to figure out that part."

And he was telling the truth, for the most part. He _had_ been giving the situation a lot of thought, but it was an overwhelming problem for which he did not seem to have a solution. Not yet, at least. After all, a promise to the Lorax was one thing, but then business was another entirely. His career was serious and cut-throat, and he couldn't afford to be slow when already, thneed impersonators were beginning to pop up. Every day that he was putting off factory production meant another day that his competition could grow fiercer; he didn't have the time nor the inclination to sit back and twiddle his thumbs, watching his work go down the drain. Especially when he had just started to get his business off the ground to begin with. He had tried time and time again to think of how he might place an efficient factory in the Valley without harming the trees, but none of the possible solutions would work. All he could do until he made a decision was continue harvesting the tufts in the same way that he _had _been doing, hoping that his little cottage would be enough to suffice for the time being.

What would the Lorax say when he figured out that the Once-Ler was thinking of clearing out some of the trees to build a factory in the Valley? He would be angry, certainly. In fact, "angry" was likely a severe understatement. After all, he had nearly drowned Oncie after only _one _tree had been chopped down. What would he do if he knew that others were likely to fall within the next few months? It wasn't as though he would be chopping down the whole _forest_, so . . . really, he _couldn't _possibly get in trouble! . . . Right?

He would have to think it over later. Work was already leaving him exhausted without having to constantly worry over whether or not his factory would cause a rift in his relationship with the forest animals.

"Once-Ler," said Norma, pulling him out of his thoughts. Her voice was level and even, but still soft to a degree. "I know you've been really busy, and you don't want to hear people preach to you about all this, but I need you to _really _think about this. Think about what's most important, okay?"

He scoffed slightly, rubbing his face with his hand, and muttered, "Yeah, I know. I _have_ been thinking about it, Norma." It was the first time he had even displayed even a mild irritation with her. He instantly regretted his brusque, abrupt tone, realizing that he was merely overtired and taking it out on someone who didn't deserve it. Softening a little, he murmured, "Sorry for snapping. It's just . . . it's only been three days, and I'm already feeling the heat. Y'know? It's a lot to think about." Wanting more than anything to give her reassurance, he glanced down at her, gave her a tiny smile, and reached for her hand, saying, "Hey, don't worry. I can _totally _handle this. It's just gonna take some getting used to, that's all. I've got some time to give the whole thing some thought, anyway."

Norma seemed appeased by this, nodding and tucking her hair behind her ear, as she always did merely from habit. "I know. I believe in you. I-I just wanted to make sure that you understood how important this whole thing is." She paused for a moment, then squeezed his hand softly. "And you know if you ever need any help, then I'm right here. You're not ever going to have to deal with anything all by yourself."

"Thanks," he answered, the smile on his face brightening instantly, returning the youth to his features. Grateful to have been cheered up, at least a little, by Norma's encouragement, he felt a light pink blush flood his cheeks as he added, "And hey, the same goes for you, too. I mean, you just _name _it, and I'll be riiiiight here. For anything in the whole world. Whenever you need me."

Norma grinned. "Oh, I don't doubt that at all," she said. "You've been so nice to me ever since we met. I don't know how I could ever hope to pay you back for everything." She absently pushed her glasses upwards on the bridge of her nose, glancing down at her feet shyly. "Thank you for giving me a chance," said Norma. "Not very many people actually _have_ before."

Oncie laughed, affectionately ruffling her hair, noticing with a gleeful lunge of his heart that this time, she didn't even bother to straighten her hair again, instead choosing to just keep eye contact with him. Maybe he _did _stand a chance with her, after all. "Of _course_ I gave you a chance," he responded lightly, his eyes bright and lively. "You gave me one, too. You were the only person in that whole town that even listened to me." He grew a tad more serious, sighing dreamily as he said, "I'm really glad I met you, Norma. I mean, it's kind of impossible to even imagine myself _without_ you now!"

Now it was her turn to blush, her face turning deep crimson as she offered him a small smile in return and said, "I-I'm glad, too." She laughed a little, then glanced up at him with amusement. "You remember the day we met, and I had to give you back that dopey hat?" she gestured to his fedora, glad to have recovered some of their usual quick banter to cover for their sudden affections for one another. "I was almost just going to put the hat in the town's Lost and Found bin, and let you find it for your own the next day. I'm glad I decided to give it to you in person."

"Me too. 'Cause I totally didn't even notice it was missing 'till you said something to me."

"Well, _that_ figures."

"Hey, hey, low blow!" laughed Oncie, elbowing her gently in the ribs. "I just didn't notice 'cause I had _waaaaay_ more important things to do than stick around and chat with the townsfolk." He nodded primly, then broke into a broad, goofy grin and quickly tickled her stomach.

She yelped with momentary surprise, swatting him away playfully, all the while saying through laughter, "O-Once-Ler, stop! No fair!"

Norma snorted, racked with giggles, and the Once-Ler released her, his face ablaze with a dark pink blush. (These days, the pink tint to his cheeks had come to define him whenever he was around Norma Harlow.) She brushed off her dress, smoothing out the wrinkles, then with a smirk stood on tiptoe to snatch his fedora from his head.

"There," she said jokingly, her nose wrinkling from the force of her smile. "I always knew I should've kept this for myself. I'd bet I could wear it just as well as you can. Maybe even better?" she winked playfully, waving the fedora teasingly in her grip.

Oncie cried out with surprise, but couldn't help the sideways grin on his face as he leaned forward in an attempt to steal it back. Norma positioned the hat expertly upon her curly hair, looking very pleased with herself as she skipped farther along, only stopping once to glance over her shoulder and see if the Once-Ler was intent on following her. Never able to resist a challenge, the tall man sped towards her in his ungainly way, closing the gap between them quickly. Retrieving the hat from the top of her head - much to Norma's playful dismay - he situated it back in its usual place on his floppy mop of dark hair.

"Thaaaaank you," he said, jokingly smug, though she did not make an effort to take it back. In fact, she did not seem to be paying him any attention, although it took him a few moments to realize this. "Piece of cake! See there, Norma? That's why you don't steal from people who're taller than . . . " his voice trailed off and he looked down at her, wondering why he hadn't gotten a response yet. He got his answer when he saw Norma staring, very intently, at the river several yards away from them. "Uhhh, Norma? You okay?"

At last, she answered, "Ssshhh, shh, Oncie!" Turning back to him briefly, she waved her hands in a hushing motion, her eyes wide behind the cracked lenses of her eyeglasses. "Look," she whispered, gesturing in the direction of the riverbank, "there they are! Looks like you were right. We finally caught up to them."

"They" of course being the Humming Fish. The three fish always seemed to congregate on their favorite rock in the river to sing while the sun set on the Trufulla Valley, almost as if to lull the earth to sleep for the night. Already, stars were beginning to wink to life in the ever-darkening sky, a few rays of orange sunlight still splashed across the sky like paint across a giant canvas. The Humming Fish whistled and crooned away, their tiny heads lifted to the sky, their high-pitched voices barely audible over the river's noise. Seeing Norma's fascination with the creatures warmed something in the Once-Ler's heart, made him remember the same thrill that he had experienced upon seeing the Valley for the first time. As time had gone by and he had gotten used to living in the forest, he supposed that the excitement had just worn off. He had almost forgotten how beautiful this place truly was.

Just one more factor to make his decision about the factory that much more complicated. Wonderful.

Determined to take his mind off that particular subject for now, he reached for Norma's hand, feeling a great leaping of joy in his heart as he caught sight of the absolute wonder on her face. "Hey," he began, careful to keep his voice quiet so as not to scare off the Humming Fish, "you wanna see if we can get a little closer to them? You might be able to hear the singing a little better if we're right down there by the rock."

"Oh, that sounds lovely," said Norma, glancing over to the fish before returning her gaze to the Once-Ler. "Come on, Oncie!" Almost like a child at an amusement park, she hurried excitedly down to the banks of the river, moving as soundlessly as possible to keep from startling the fish as they sang to the forest.

The Once-Ler laughed, unable to contain his giddiness as she all but dragged him down to the riverside. He had never seen this side of his friend before, so open and vulnerable and eager to experience the world. It reminded him that, despite her maturity and intelligence, Norma really had not seen much outside of Greenville. Sometimes, with her daring, adventurous personality, it was easy for him to forget how sheltered she was. This more than anything else made him even more determined than before to be able to share the whole world with her. She deserved that. She _wanted_ that. And he wanted most of all to be able to give that adventure to her.

When they made it to the river's edge, the Once-Ler waved to the Humming Fish, grinning broadly. "Heeeey, guys!" he greeted casually, gaining their attention. The fish stopped dead in their song, looking startled for a moment, then spotted Oncie and waved happily in return. "This is my friend, Norma. You met her yet?" Norma gave them a sheepish, almost tentative wave, and the fish tiptoed shyly a few paces in her direction. "I was kinda hoping you might sing a little for her." At their apprehensive looks, he laughed and waved his hand quickly. "Ah, don't worry, she's nice!"

"Hello," greeted Norma, offering them the gentlest smile that she could manage. Careful not to be intimidating, she added, "The Once-Ler's told me so much about you. I've been wanting to hear you sing lately, but I can never find you."

After a moment's pause, the Humming Fish drew themselves to full height (which, obviously, was still not quite substantial), then turned their backs on Norma and the Once-Ler to debate amongst themselves. They chattered, all in a huddle, for what seemed like an eternity, during which Oncie exchanged a nervous glance with his friend. He had never seen the fish quite so secretive; what were they now, a club or something? Feeling his face redden slightly, he gave an awkward little laugh, gesturing for Norma to take a seat by the river.

"We might as well sit down," he said with a smile, plopping down with a soft thud right down beside her, crossing his legs. "This looks like it miiiiiight be a while."

Smoothing the creases from her dress, she responded lightly, "Well, I'm sure it'll be well worth the wait. They seem like they know what they're doing." Amused, she offered a smirk to the Once-Ler, then, after pausing to consider it for just an instant, leaned in to rest her head against his shoulder.

At last, the Humming Fish turned back around, looking as if a decision had been made. The middle fish, who seemed to be the leader, cleared his throat, waving his fins in mimic of a conductor to indicate the start of their song. Their tiny voices blended well together, their lilting melody hitting the air and curling up into the dusky blue sky like a lullaby. It was a slow, languid tune, a surprising change of pace from their usual upbeat numbers. For a moment, the Once-Ler was worried that Norma might be bored by this display, but when he glanced across at her, it seemed to be the contrary. Her eyes were wide and glassy as she stared at the fish in wonder, and she appeared to be concentrating especially hard on the melody. He had to admit, it was certainly a relaxing one; after a while, his shoulders slackened comfortably, and he leaned to rest his head against Norma's, as well, reaching down to gently lace his fingers through hers.

The song finished, and Norma immediately sprung from her comfortable position against Oncie's shoulder, accidentally bumping her head against his chin as she straightened up to give the fish applause. The Once-Ler rubbed his aching chin, but smiled despite himself at the sight of Norma's enthusiasm.

"That was _amazing_," she cheered, her face more jubilant than the Once-Ler had seen it in days. "I've never seen anything like that in my whole life! They really are quite talented, aren't they, Oncie?"

"I'll say," he said. "They're also total hams. Buuuuut I'm one to talk," he joked with a smirk, unable to help himself.

Norma giggled, covering her mouth daintily with her hand (though she contrasted this attitude by offering him a none-too-ladylike playful swat on the arm). The Humming Fish took their bows, looking none too humble about it, then grinned broadly at Norma and Oncie before hopping, one by one, back into the river for the night. By this time, the sun had completely disappeared beyond the horizon line, the sky a dark, velvety blue, the moon brightening practically by the second. Crickets chirped in the heather, the nighttime symphony swelling to life. The Truffula Valley was lively enough in the day, but the night hours were when nature really seemed to hum and thrive around them. The Once-Ler closed his eyes serenely for a moment or two, relaxing into the night. At least, for a few seconds, that is, until he remembered something exceedingly important: his _work_.

"Oh, _shoot_," he exclaimed, his face reddening as he scrambled to his feet. "I forgot about work! Oh, this is _soooo_ not good. D'you know what sort of things happen when I leave my family to run things by themselves? They're _totally _not self-sufficient, Norma, I can tell you that right now."

Norma, surprised by his sudden outburst, glanced quickly up at him, following suit almost immediately. When she had righted herself, she brushed off her dress, then looked over her shoulder uphill, where she could see the lights from Oncie's cottage in the distance. Everything seemed peaceful enough; she didn't think that he really had anything to be too worried about, but he had always been that way about his work. Extremely protective and even a little secretive about his projects.

"Oh, I guess you ought to get back, then," she said, both of them slightly stunned by how quickly time had passed. Neither of them had noticed until this point how quickly time had passed by. "Since I came down here to help you, I'll stay and work where you need me. I don't know how much I'll be able to help, since I don't see so well in the dark, but of course I'll try."

The Once-Ler exhaled, relieved. He needed Norma most of all for work such as this; she was so levelheaded and cool under pressure, a far cry from his mother's neurotic, almost bossy tendencies. Perhaps she would help the others - namely his brothers, who were always prone to slacking off - pick up the pace and become more efficient with their jobs. Pushing his hands through his bangs, as he always did when he became nervous or frustrated, he nodded quickly, taking Norma's hand and beginning the walk back in the direction of his house.

"You're a saint, y'know that?" he told her as they hurried past the towering Truffula trees, darting in and out of the slivers of moonlight between the tree trunks. "I owe you _so _many sodas right now."

Wrinkling her nose, Norma answered jokingly, "Oh, I'm not much of a soda drinker. You can just pay me back by sharing some marshmallows with me instead. And _don't _say you don't have anymore like you tell the animals, because I know where you keep them," she added with a laugh.

"Yeah, yeah," said the Once-Ler, heat rushing to his cheeks, a crooked grin on his face. "Y'know, actually, I think I'll have to take you up on that sometime, Norma. 'Cause with all this work and stuff keeping me busy, I don't know how often we're gonna get to just hang out anymore. Running this factory's gonna keep both of us on our toes."

"In that case, I won't let you forget that you made the offer," Norma said. Seizing his arm and leaning closer to him as they strode closer to his house, she added softly, "It's going to be great, Oncie. Don't worry. I know you can handle it."

Well, if he hadn't been feeling pressured to make the right decision about his factory _before_, then he certainly felt so now.

Knowing how much Norma believed in him, supported him, _cared_ for him, definitely did not do anything to change how uncertain he still felt over the expansion of his business. On the one hand, it was a logical, sensible move to allow his company to get bigger; after all, to be successful, he couldn't just stay in his little tent, charging three dollars for hand-knitted thneeds anymore, could he? No, that would be far too slow. They were already slowed down by the tedious process of having to pluck every individual tuft, and not having a factory to speed up the knitting only set them back that much farther.

On the other hand, he did have that pesky little promise hanging over his head. _Drat_. Much as he hated to admit it, those animals had saved his life. He really owed them this much, didn't he? Still . . . would they possibly understand if he told them that things had changed, the situation was different now, so his promise just wouldn't be possible? It would only be a _few_ trees, just enough to put a factory in the center of the Valley. No harm done. Right? It was just unfair and outrageous to expect his business, which he had worked so hard for in these past few months, to stay put without any growth whatsoever. It wasn't as though he could just build the factory somewhere else, it needed to be close to the Truffula trees, and there was very little room elsewhere in Greenville, anyway. No, his animal friends would just have to understand. Surely they would be able to compromise.

At last, they made it back to the hillside, his tent coming quickly into view. He was able to immediately spot it on the horizon, the lights having been accidentally left on during his absence. Slowing, the two of them stopped under a nearby Truffula tree, its tufts bending in submission to the gentle breeze. Night had truly settled in on the Valley by this point; even the Once-Ler's family, who had been hard at work all evening, had finally turned in for the night; in the distance, he could see them piling into the RV, where they all practically lived. Uncle Ubb was the last to disappear behind the RV's doors, leaving a freshly-harvested wheelbarrow of tufts out by the doors of the vehicle for Oncie to pick up later. He would have to set to work knitting all by himself, it seemed.

Well, not _all _by himself, he reminded himself quickly. Norma was here to help him knit things, so maybe the work would go by faster. Maybe. Hopefully. He could already feel his fingers beginning to ache from strain, even before setting to the seemingly-impossible task of working up dozens of thneeds in one sitting. Still, he had been the one to set up this thneed business in the first place, so creating an effective company was his responsibility. And if anyone could handle it, it was him. Right? Of course. With Norma's help, the work would go by much faster. She had always been more focused than he, able to complete a task that normally would have taken hours within a good thirty minutes. Of course, it always took her a while to get to that state of extreme focus and almost zen, but once she was there, she almost became a completely different person.

Good old Norma. Always there to help him when he needed it. She had been by his side from the very beginning, and now things had come full-circle, and here she was. She hadn't gotten bored with him after he had finally managed to sell a thneed; he owed her a lot for actually wanting to stay with him. If he were being perfectly honest with himself, he supposed he hadn't really _ever_ expected someone to _want_ to stay. His whole life, he had coasted by, merely running on the assumption that he would never find someone who would care enough about him to hang around for long. After all, if his own father hadn't even wanted to keep with him, then who else would? It was so strange how the Once-Ler was finally beginning to see the world in a different sort of light. For the first time, he had a sense of self-worth that ran deeper than just his view of his talents or his potential in the business world. To Norma, he was really special, and for more than just the thneed.

It frightened him a little to think about that. It seemed nearly impossible for him to believe that he really meant quite so much to one person. True, it was wonderful to know; exhilarating, even. But just as tingly and giddy and walking-on-air twitterpated the idea made him feel, to the same extent, he couldn't help but be a little overwhelmed by it all. He was her closest friend and confidante; would it be possible that she could feel anything _more _for him? Given how strongly he was now certain he felt for her, given how dearly he wanted to be with her, it was hard to believe that she couldn't feel the same way. How could all that emotion possibly go unrequited? It had to have _some _merit, right? He at least had a fighting chance, didn't he?

The Once-Ler blushed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, sure now that he wanted to tell Norma of his feelings, but unsure of how to word it. (There had always been a sort of natural charisma to his dorky, over-the-top personality, but as far as knowing the exact thing to say in every situation, he had always been surprisingly lacking in social prowess.) After all, what else could he lose, right? He had always been so confident and unfailingly optimistic, even with all his hidden insecurities, so why should he suddenly turn into such a negative thinker just because the idea of liking Norma - maybe even something greater than just that - was unknown and different territory for him? It wasn't as though he hadn't had a crush before; it was just that _this_, what he felt for her, was so much more compared to all the high-school infatuations he had had as a teenager.

Impulsive as ever, unwilling to allow himself even a moment to hesitate or weigh his options, the Once-Ler began quickly, stumbling over his words, "Norma, I - "

Unfortunately, at the same time, Norma had sighed, turning back to him with an eager smile as she said, "Well, I guess we'd better get back to work." She paused, having noticed that she had accidentally stepped on his words, and blinked curiously, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Oh, I'm sorry. Were you going to say something, Oncie?"

He paused for just a moment, wondering if he should go through with it. It was daring, it was a bold move, a step in the right direction for sure. The words danced and tingled on the tip of his tongue, waiting eagerly to be vocalized. _I like you, Norma. Really like you. Maybe even more than that. And it'd be _so_ great if you liked me back, too. _That was all it took. So why, despite how much he wanted to be brave and unflinchingly confess his affections to her, did he still feel so hesitant to do so?

Perhaps he _could_ tell her, and soon, but tonight was not the right time. It didn't _feel _right to him. And despite his inclination to be a little on the harebrained, erratic side, there was still a more methodical side to him there, as well. After all, if he could plan for years and years and be patient enough to wait practically his whole life to find the perfect material for the thneed, then surely he could execute the same sort of discipline when it came to Norma.

Finally, he found his voice once again, shrugging his shoulders and giving his hand a quick, almost flippant wave. "Oh, no, it's nothing. Totally not important," he chuckled. "Anyways, yeah, you're probably right. Since my family ducked out early tonight, it'll be just us, sooooo . . . we'd better get crackin', I guess!" Striding over to the wheelbarrow, he grunted softly as he shoved the heavy cart of tufts to the lip of the tent. "I can probably finish it up myself after we get started, but maybe if you wanna help knit just a couple, just to help things get rolling . . . " he suggested, setting down the wheelbarrow for a moment to unlock the door of his cottage.

"Are you sure? That looks like a lot of work," said Norma as she fell into step beside him, pausing at the doorway. "Really, Oncie, I can stay late if you need me too."

"I think I've got it," he said, squaring his shoulders as he held the door open for her. "Thanks anyway, though. You know, one of these days, we've gotta get together and do something not work-related. You ever notice that every time we hang out, it's to talk about thneeds or my songwriting or whatever?"

Norma smiled, heading into his tent and quickly taking a seat at the kitchen table, Oncie following behind her. When the door closed, she giggled and said, "To be perfectly honest, I _had_ started to notice. A little. But I don't have a problem with it, really. I'm just glad that I get to spend time with you anyway."

Blushing, the Once-Ler glanced down at his feet, then laughed sheepishly and replied, "Well, that's good. 'Cause I like spending time with you, too. A lot." He looked back up at her, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners as a broad smile stretched onto his face. "But still! We've gotta do something really _fun _one of these days! No thneeds involved!" He folded his arms across his chest, considering this for a moment, gasping and snapping his fingers when an idea struck him. "Oh, yeah! My mom and I were talking about this earlier, and I think we're planning on having some kind of party once the business finally takes off. We might have to wait 'till we get the factory under way and all that, but that'd be fun, wouldn't it? We could go together! You know how awesome we are at parties."

Norma snickered, ruffling his hair as he took a seat beside her at the table. "I thiiiiink that still counts as work-related, Oncie," she told him, her nose wrinkling playfully. "But . . . alright. I'd love to." Sighing happily, she leaned her head against his shoulder for a moment, murmuring softly, "We _are_ amazing partiers, aren't we?"

"So humble, too." The Once-Ler laughed and draped his arm casually over her shoulder, heart pounding with a strange new exhilaration. "Hey, I know a business-related party sounds totally lame, but I promise, one of these days, you and me . . . we're gonna see the world."

Smiling, Norma leaned in a little closer to him, nuzzling softly against the curve of his shoulder. "Hmm, well, I can't wait for that," she answered, keeping still for several long seconds. After a while, she cleared her throat, straightened up, and gave him a soft smile, adding, "But for now, we've got work to do, remember? You keep distracting me."

"Oh. Riiiight, right. Work. That boring thing that nobody likes to do. Forgot about that stuff." Another laugh from the Once-Ler, and then a giggle from Norma in return.

"Once-Ler, you're very odd," said Norma, though her voice was light and affectionate, not mocking in the slightest.

Grinning, Oncie replied, "A little odd . . . but undeniably charming!" Dropping an eyelid in a quick, playful wink, he nudged her lightly, eliciting another laugh.

"Of course, of course . . . come on, Mr. Businessman. Get to work." Though she couldn't help but smile and tickle his rib cage quickly before finally settling in with a pile of Truffula tufts.

As they set to work knitting thneeds, however, they were unaware that a certain Guardian of the Forest, who had been walking past the Once-Ler's tent on the way to the river, had overheard their conversation, particularly the part about the new factory.

And he was _not _happy.

* * *

"So, how was your day, dear?"

"Mmm . . . productive."

"I _see_."

Norma raised her eyebrows, detecting a note of mingled curiosity and humor in her mother's tone of voice that instantly put her on guard. Louise Harlow had the keen ability to dig right to the very bottom of peoples' feelings, perceptive enough to unearth a person's problems merely by paying attention to their inflections. (Unfortunately, Jean had also inherited this gift, much to Norma's distress, though at least her little sister's skill was less honed than their mother's.) Mother was always eager to talk to Norma about her day, share anecdotes and laugh over the day's events, but tonight, she seemed especially determined to get information from her daughter. And when Mrs. Harlow was on track of something, very rarely did she let it go.

Norma couldn't possibly imagine what her mother thought was so interesting, but she supposed she ought to humor her, at least. She had nothing to keep from her, so what could it hurt, really? The rest of her night had been fairly uneventful; she had helped the Once-Ler knit fifteen full thneeds before realizing that it was getting late, and she needed to return home, much as she hated to leave him there to finish the work by himself. At the very least, they had managed to get a good start on all his work. She only hoped that it wouldn't be too much for him to have to continue on his own for the night. He was a hard worker, of course, and she certainly didn't doubt his _ability_; that sort of activity, and for such a prolonged amount of time, would be wearing on _anybody_, though, even one as strong-willed as he.

On the walk home, Norma had allowed herself, for the first time in a while, the luxury of thinking about her current relationship with the Once-Ler. They were dear friends, of course, but lately, it seemed be getting more and more unclear where they stood with one another. Their hugs, their conversations, their . . . _everything _seemed to have another meaning behind it these days. More often, she was catching herself staring into his eyes, becoming strangely fascinated with how the blue irises sparkled when they caught the light. Or how expressive he was; his animation when he talked had made her laugh and warmed her heart before, but recently, it seemed to make her positively melt when she saw the emotion behind that smile.

Norma wasn't one to vehemently deny the obvious, seeing as she wasn't stubborn and certainly wasn't foolish. She could admit that for a while now, she had been growing increasingly attracted to her best friend. But that was _normal_, of course! He was a handsome, friendly young man, and with such an open personality that it was _bound _to attract her some time or another. He was just so unlike anyone else in Greenville, so different and so hopeful, that she couldn't help but feel herself wanting more and more just to be near him.

Yet, for whatever reason, she still couldn't prevent herself from wanting to shy away from her feelings. The very thought of having one person mean so much to her and not even know if they reciprocated the emotion was an intimidating one, to say the very least. And then there was the matter of actually _telling _him how she felt. Of course, Norma had never been the type to back away from a challenging or particularly nerve-wracking task, but this was worlds different than anything she had faced before. What would happen if she did tell him, and he ended up getting scared off, rather than liking her back? She wouldn't want to lose him that way.

Losing Oncie. Now _there_ was a frightening thought.

Dragging herself away from those terrifying notions, Norma cleared her throat and rubbed her hands restlessly against her legs, the cotton fabric of her pajama bottoms rustling beneath her fingertips. Instead, she decided to focus her attention on her mother, who was seated on Norma's bed directly behind her daughter, playing with the coppery curls of hair absentmindedly. This was something they had always done when Norma was growing up, sit in her room and just talk about their days as they wound down to sleep for the night. The atmosphere in the room was calm, and yet something about the incessant curiosity in her mother's voice was a tad unsettling.

"What's wrong, Mother?" said Norma, stretching lithely with a sleepy groan. She glanced over her shoulder to her mother for a moment before turning back to her journal, which she had propped open in her lap on a blank page.

Louise Harlow shrugged, a slight smirk on her face. "Oh, nothing, dear," she replied lightheartedly, beginning to idly plait Norma's hair.

Dragging her pencil slowly along the page of her journal as she began doodling a sunflower, Norma replied, "Are you _sure_? You seem awfully eager to hear about my day. I mean, it seems like you're almost expecting me to say something."

"No," responded Mother, casual as ever. "I just like hearing about your day. You have such an interesting way of describing things. You're a writer at heart, all the way through." Having grown bored of the braid she was putting in Norma's hair, she ran her fingers through the individual plaits and let the curls hang loosely around Norma's shoulders once again, teasing and fluffing them with her fingers.

There was a long, peaceful silence, and Norma once again slipped back into her thoughts. Her shoulders relaxed and she gave a long sigh, finally feeling ready enough to lie down and go to sleep for the night. Her bed would be especially warm tonight, given how tired she felt. Her eyes stung and ached from working and knitting thneeds, the tips of her fingers still sore and throbbing. She could only imagine how much worse the Once-Ler must feel.

Louise was the first to break the quietness between the two of them, and her words were shocking enough to bring Norma immediately out of her reverie with a jolt:

"I think you're in love, Norma."

"_What_?"

"Oh, honey, don't deny it. You've been sighing on and on, ever since you got home. And not just today. All week, really. And walking around with this dreamy look in your eyes." Louise gave a wistful sigh of her own, then scooted forward on the bed so that she could face her daughter, her eyes wide and warm, though they were indeed serious. "What about that boy you've been spending so much time with lately? Once-Ler? I think that it's him. Isn't it?"

Norma sputtered indignantly, too surprised by her mother's surmising to even bring herself to muster up a complete sentence. Finally, she decided upon, "Mother, what are you talking about?" Fiddling nervously with the hem of her pajama top, she cleared her throat and mumbled shyly, "H-he's just a very good friend . . . " her voice trailed off as she heard how weak the argument sounded, and she winced at the shakiness in her voice. Pausing a moment to collect her thoughts, she amended slowly, "I've never been in love before. I-I wouldn't know how it's supposed to feel." _And talking about it with one's _mother_ can't be all too helpful,_ she thought with an indignant blush. "I just don't know what to do about it."

As Norma buried her face in her hands, her mother rested her hand gently against her shoulder. "Well," said Louise, patting her daughter's shoulder lightly, "maybe you don't have to tell him immediately. Not until you're really ready. But until then, there's not a thing in the world wrong with a little ladylike hint."

"Are you _sure_?" said Norma, dubious.

"Positive," her mother responded; Norma could practically hear the smile in her voice. "How do you think I got your father to finally make a move?"

Tentatively, Norma lifted her face from her hands, giving a weak, shaky little laugh and smiling back at her mother. She had to admit, as nervous as the idea made her, it wasn't such a bad strategy. Sure, the Once-Ler tended to be a bit on the oblivious side sometimes, but they knew each other so well that surely he would notice if she were behaving just a little differently around him. And it wasn't as though she would all of the sudden be throwing herself at him; she would just have to play her cards right and try her best to let her guard down a little more. Perhaps after a while she would gain the courage to really speak up, but for now, she was willing to just take things slow. She couldn't just rush into something so significant.

"I guess it couldn't hurt to try," Norma conceded, pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. "And besides, we're best friends. Even if he ended up not liking me back, he'd understand. He wouldn't just completely ditch me. Right?"

"Of _course_ right," said Mrs. Harlow, smoothing back her daughter's bangs and pressing a quick kiss to her temple. "If he's really as kind as you say he is, then I think he definitely will. Just remember, Norma. He's your best friend, so he already likes you just as you are. You don't need to change a thing for him, or for any man. Even if it doesn't work out romantically, you've still got a lot of people who care about you. Don't ever just settle."

Blushing, Norma nodded and said softly, "Thank you, Mother. I'll remember that." She glanced down at her lap, her cheeks a scorching shade of pink, clearing her throat before adding, "I think I have a lot of things to think about. It's been a long day."

"Alright, well . . . goodnight, sweetheart. And if you ever need to talk to me about anything, well . . . you know where to find me." She gave her daughter a humorous smile, standing up from the bed and gracefully loping to the bedroom door. "Maybe one of these days, we'll finally get that Mother-Daughter day with you and Jean that we've been planning."

"Maybe so," Norma said. "I hope so. Goodnight, Mother. I'll see you in the morning."

When her mother had left the room, the door shutting softly behind her, Norma curled up underneath her fluffy pink duvet, her thoughts whirling. Despite how obvious and clear her emotions were, at the same time, she was even more confused than ever. Sure, she liked the Once-Ler, found him attractive and considered him an outstandingly kind soul in a world where those personalities were increasingly difficult to find; but being in love with someone was a _huge_ step to take. She wasn't exactly sure if she was ready to face something so significant yet. Despite all this, she couldn't help but feel that her mother's words rang true. It wasn't as though Norma needed to change anything about herself. Still . . . loving someone, at the same time, changes _everything_ about a person. (Or, from what she had read in books, at least.)

Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she _should _take the risk and tell him. Maybe.

Leaning to click off the lamp on her bedside table, she sighed and settled back into bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. The ceiling fan swung rhythmically above her head, and she closed her eyes, trying to listen to the sound of the circulating air and lull herself to sleep. She would deal with these confusing thoughts in the morning, but right now, she was so exhausted that she wanted nothing more than to just fall into a well-deserved, dreamless, consistent slumber.

Going to sleep with a mind and heart so full, however, was much easier said than done.

* * *

It was a little past midnight, the sky over the Truffula Valley stretching, vast and endless, dappled with stars. Crickets chirped, rodents rustled in the foliage, a gentle breeze tossed the trees, the grass bending in submission to the winds. As the night had gone on, the sounds of the barbaloots running about the fields had gradually diminished, until they had all at last quieted for the night. (Some of them, out of mere habit, had come into the tent to curl up and sleep, but most of the little bear-like creatures preferred sleeping under the stars, beneath the Truffula trees.) The Humming Fish had since ceased their singing, and even the Swammee Swans, who were well-known around the valley for being the last ones to quiet down, were silent.

The landscape was as peaceful as always, and yet the Once-Ler's mind was racing.

Norma had since gone home for the night after helping him knit the first set of thneeds, about fifteen, but he had stayed awake to finish the task by himself. He didn't particularly mind; despite how exhausting it was to stay up with so much weighing on his mind, the thneed-making job was not too unbearably tedious. He had always loved knitting, anyway; he found it relaxing, and with so much to think about, it was a welcome method of escapism. Being so focused on work would allow him little time to think about the other things swarming around his mind like angry hornets.

Or so he thought.

Against his own will, the Once-Ler's thoughts drifted from his work and his business to Norma. Huffing with exasperation, he set down his knitting needles and raked his fingers through his bangs, shutting his eyes. Why was it that even though it was nearing two o'clock in the morning, his eyes stung from weariness, his head felt as though tiny people were drilling holes into his skull, he still just wanted to think about Norma Harlow? With so much going on in his professional life, his love life - or lack thereof, more accurately - needed to take the backseat for the time being. That, however, was proving incredibly difficult. The idea of going to Norma, even in a casual setting, and presenting his feelings for her out in the open, loomed like a great shadow in the back of his mind. It was frightening and exhilarating to think about all at once, and the more he tried to get it out of his head, the stronger it seemed to return.

Well, if the Once-Ler could be known for any one of his character traits, it would be his willpower. Squaring his shoulders, he determinedly righted his posture, easing the crick in his neck as he settled himself into his chair and decided to get back to work. He had had enough of killing time, now it was actually time to accomplish something. He still had dozens of orders ahead of him waiting to be completed; now was not the time for dawdling. Once again picking up his knitting needles, he rolled his shoulders to relieve the tension, then hunched over his work space once again, hard at work. The tent was absolutely silent in a way that it never had been before. Even the barbaloots that were curled up on the floor were quiet and respectful of the Once-Ler. They seemed to understand he needed to concentrate and were willing to accomodate for him, and this thought made him feel the slightest pang of guilt for having to make plans for the new factory to be built.

That factory. Just another nuisance that was preventing him from focusing on the task at hand.

Nothing, however, could prepare him for the shock he received when he heard a familiar voice say from behind him, "Listen, Beanpole, we need to talk."

Gasping, Oncie wheeled around in his seat, his heart thumping erratically against his rib cage. He gripped the drafting table beside him for support, in his flustered state accidentally dropping the half-knitted thneed onto the ground. His eyes wide, he stared down at the fluffy orange Lorax, and the Guardian of the Forest stared back. It wasn't a pleasant sort of stare either (then again, when had the creature ever _been_ all that pleasant to begin with?), and immediately, the Once-Ler knew that this conversation would not be an easy one. The Lorax's yellow mustache drooped downward from the force of the frown on his meat-loafish face, his fuzzy eyebrows making his eyes look much beadier than they actually were.

When he finally had found his voice again, Oncie cleared his throat, assuming his usual flippant attitude towards the Lorax as he asked artlessly, "Oh, it's you. Listen, Mustache, can you make this quick? I mean, I've kinda got a _ton_ of work to do . . . " he rubbed the back of his neck slowly, bending down to pick up the thneed.

"Don't worry, don't worry. I'll try not to waste any of your valuable time," said the Lorax, his voice just as gravelly as ever, the sarcastic edge in his tone positively scalding. Putting his hands on his stumpy hips, the forest creature said, "But I _did_ say I'd keep my eye on you, and it looks like we've got a big problem here. Huge."

"Okaaaaaay, sooooo . . . what exactly is the problem?" asked the Once-Ler, though he had a vague feeling he already knew. He arched an eyebrow and set the thneed back down on the table, his knitting needles clattering.

"Ah, don't play dumb. I heard you talkin' to that Norma girl about puttin' a _factory_ right here in the valley. Do I even _need_ to say how many things are wrong with that picture, kid?" Advancing forward a few steps, the Lorax raised his exasperated, worried gaze to the Once-Ler's, immediately demanding, "Whaddaya think you're _doin_', Beanpole? A _factory_ here? Nuh-uh. Sorry. It's not gonna happen. You can take your plans and build 'em somewhere else. But these trees are stayin' put."

The Once-Ler bit his tongue, heaving a deep sigh. His temper was already short from a long night of work, and while he didn't want to misdirect any anger at someone he considered a friend - or, as the Lorax had put it, very good acquaintance - at the same time, he couldn't just sit idly by and be talked to as though he were the villain. After working so long just to achieve his dreams of finally starting a successful, steady business that could really do the world some _good_, he wasn't about to just stand around and let people view him as the bad guy. The thneed was going to work wonders on the world, he just knew it. So what if he had a few naysayers? He had always dealt wth them. But the Lorax would realize, just like everyone else already had, that Oncie was doing society a favor with his invention.

"Listen, don't you think I've already thought about all that?" Rolling his eyes, the Once-Ler reclined in his seat, unable to look the Lorax in the eye as he mumbled, "It was a tough decision, y'know, but there's nothin' else I can do. You understand that much, right?" He paused a moment, waiting for a response, but the Lorax remained infuriatingly stoic.

He shook his fuzzy orange head, jabbing a long finger at Oncie's chest as he said, "Look, there's no room for compromisin' here! There's plenty of room other places for you to build that factory. I'm already lettin' you pick the tufts off my trees. That's as far as it goes. No more. The animals that live here - "

"Yeah, yeah, _save it_." Rising from his seat, the Once-Ler took a step forward as well, now unable to disguise his anger. His face became quickly flooded with a deep red color, though it was mostly from embarrassment at being called out on his growing problem. His tone of voice and entire body language seemed to take on a defensive edge as he added, "I've heard it aaaaaall before. You've told me, like, a million times. But things are _changing _now. It's different. The thing is, this factory is happening whether you understand it or not. Soooooo . . . that's that! End of story!"

"You think so, huh? I gotta disagree with you there," the Lorax responded without missing a beat, stepping forward again since he had flinched back from the Once-Ler's sharp tone of voice. "This ain't over. I speak for the trees, and they've got a _lot_ to say to you, buster. If you don't put a stop to this right now while you've still got a chance, bad stuff's gonna happen, I can promise that much. And y'know whose shoulders it's all gonna fall on? _Yours_, pal, not mine."

Finlly sighing with defeat, Oncie slumped tiredly back into his chair, burying his face in his hands. "Look, I'm _really _busy right now, okay? I've got a lot on my mind. Just . . . just go away and leave me alone, alright?"

"Fine," said the Guardian of the Forest, his voice icy and flat, still unfailingly stubborn. "Just . . . give it a little thought. Please." If the Once-Ler wasn't mistaken, he thought he could hear the Lorax's voice soften imperceptibly.

Oncie gave no reply. There was a soft scuffling sound as the Lorax headed out of the tent, the telltale scratching sound of the short creature trying to reach the doorknob (this time, however, the Once-Ler did not get up from his seat to open the door for him). The door finally swung open with a creak, and after a brief moment, snapped shut once again, leaving Oncie alone with his work and his thoughts. There was an ample amount of both to keep him occupied well into the night and the early morning of the next day.


	14. Chapter Fourteen: The Way I See You

"Okaaaaay . . . just gimme ooooooone more second, and then I'll be ready. You're gonna love it, Norma. It's pretty awesome, I'm not gonna lie."

"Alright! Well, I'll have you know that my expectations are high."

"Ah, duly noted. Okay, here goes . . . ready, Norma?"

"Yep! Bring it on, handsome."

"Aaaaaand . . . ta-daaaa! Well? Whaddaya think?"

The Once-Ler strode out from behind the privacy partition between Norma and himself, outstretching his arms as he presented to her his new head-to-toe wardrobe transformation. With the money he had earned from the thneeds nearly doubling in sales over the past five months, the first thing he had decided to purchase had been a brand-new suit. It had taken him a while to save up for this particular purchase, but it was well worth it.

(It had actually been his mother's decision; she had claimed that the public would be more drawn to a well-dressed man, and that it would help along his image, since he was still new to the game. He didn't have much of a business reputation yet, even after several months of consistent success, so the earlier he started working on making a name for himself as a celebrity, the better. And, well, people respected a man in a suit. According to his mother, at least.)

The suit was fairly ostentatious, a far cry away from the simple style of dress he had chosen in his earlier business days. In place of his typical gray fedora (another piece of memorobilia from his father that Susie Once-ler had been all too eager to get rid of), a tall, black, silk top hat with a green stripe around the base sat atop his dark hair. He wore an emerald green pinstriped tailcoat-jacket with a wide collar, a pink Truffula clover pinned securely to his lapel. Underneath the jacket was a white dress shirt, neatly pressed, with a collar that rose up high on his neck, and a green-and-black striped tie. A thin gold chain glinted in the light where it hung from the waistband of his pants (also pinstriped, Norma noted with a snicker). Perhaps the factor in the outfit that stood out the most, however, were the tall green gloves that he was wearing overtop of his sleeves; they gave his fingers the illusion of being longer and skinnier, and the fabric looked incredibly itchy.

"It's very . . . bright," said Norma, giving his ensemble a quick once-over before smothering a giggle with her hand.

The Once-Ler laughed, spinning around once giddily, his coattails swishing around his long legs. "Pretty nice, huh?" he said, a broad smile stretching onto his features. Positively elated, he squared his shoulders and looked into her eyes, exclaiming, "I look like someone really _important _now!"

And, more significantly, he _felt _like someone really important now, too. Partly because of his newly-changed appearance, of course, but also because the last five months had passed in an absolute whirlwind as his business, Thneed Incorporated, had skyrocketed to popularity. The first few weeks or so, his business had remained relatively quiet and humble, though still thriving at its own rhythm. When construction of the factory had begun, however, it was as though someone had flipped a switch, and suddenly customers were pouring in from . . . well, _everywhere_. And while it had certainly been on the overwhelming side at first, the Once-Ler felt that he was now in a place where he could take all of his newfound success in stride. There was always time for work, but why not stop and smell the roses occassionally, and appreciate the new love and acceptance from his family and consumers, as well?

The factory was built now, after all, so that took a great amount of stress off his own shoulders, now that he no longer needed to worry over where to store and knit all the tufts. It had, in the end, been a difficult decision to make. The conversation with the Lorax had hung in his head like an omen for weeks following, but then the time had come for him to make a choice. His mother and a few other willing business investors had approached him and asked for his ruling, and before he knew it, he had been pressured into making a snap decision. He was absolutely certain, though, now that he saw all the good that this factory was doing for his company and his loyal customers, that he had done the right thing. Sure, every now and then, he got the nagging little feeling in the back of his mind that maybe he had made a mistake, but _every_ new businessman experienced a little self-doubt when they were just starting out. He was just a little nervous, that was all.

Right?

Well, right or not, the Lorax had made good on his word, and when the construction of the factory had begun, the fuzzy orange creature had made it a point to arrive at the Once-Ler's cottage every day to pester and petition and blather about the trees. It was something that, to a certain extent, Oncie had come to expect as a part of his daily routine. He didn't always know exactly _when _the Lorax would make an appearance, but he could always count on being bothered when he was trying to get important work done. Not that it really made much of a difference. All it did was tire the Once-Ler out and leave the two of them with pointless arguments, none of which accomplished anything becuse Oncie was determined not to be pushed around when it came to _his _work.

While his success certainly had its perks, there were certain nuisances that had come along with it, as well. His "friend" constantly bossing him around and telling him that his hard work and his _dreams _were a bad thing happened to be one of them. After an entire lifetime of having his ideas smothered and being told that he simply didn't have what it took to accomplish big things, he was understandably quite sick of having limitations forced upon him. He'd been strangled by words his entire life. This time around, however, he wasn't willing to let naysayers and negative thinkers ruin the glow of his success. With something good finally happening to him, why should he constantly have to guilt himself and make himself feel bad for no reason?

Perhaps because with the construction of the factory, some . . . _other _things had started happening, too. For instance . . . his mother had convinced him to start chopping down the trees. This, too, had been another difficult choice to make, and he had felt almost cornered into the decision. After all, he hadn't exactly been allowed a lot of time to think about it. He had been hard at work drawing up the official blueprints for the factory one minute, and the next, his mother had somehow lassooed him into chopping down the trees.

The whole thing had been so sudden that he had been stumped for a while, a bit bemused as to what had led him to make the decision. Though he had to admit, it was a good business move. Why should he have to constantly hang around and ask _permission _from a bunch of forest animals, right? Right. Absolutely right. Of course he was doing the right thing. Now was not the time for self-doubt, after all. The Lorax and the animals just didn't understand. How could they? They had never been in his position before. They had never wanted something as much as he had always wanted this; they didn't realize all the hard work that it took for him to get here. So, whether they liked it or not, they would just have to compromise for a while.

After all, it wasn't as if he was planning on keeping the business so disorganized _all _the time. His factory was new, and yes, they were experiencing problems with trying to keep the smogulous smoke and the schlopedy schlop under control. These, he knew, were merely minor setbacks, and the more he reviewed his blueprints, the easier it would be for him to find a solution to the problem. It wasn't a huge issue, anyway. He had plenty of time on his hands to deal with pesky details like the environment later. He had more important business matters to attend to, first and foremost. How bad could it possibly be?

The whole ordeal had left him utterly bewildered for a while, so confused by the situation that he hadn't even told Norma until a week or two after he had made the choice official.

Needless to say, she had _not _been the slightest bit happy with him.

The two of them had argued that night; it had been the first time that the Once-Ler had ever felt himself get angry with Norma before, and frankly, it had frightened him. The last thing that he had expected was to lose his temper with Norma, of all people. (He had to admit, he had his father's temper. He didn't show it very often, and it didn't ever last very long, but when he did get angry, it burned with intensity in the brief time it existed.) Something inside him had just seemed to light on fire when his best friend, the person that he thought would understand what a struggle it was for him to choose what was best for his business, had gotten angry and blamed him for a decision she did not agree with. After all, hadn't she been the one to say that she would support him no matter _what_?

Regardless, he had apologized to her almost endlessly following their argument, and she had quickly forgiven him, despite the fact that Norma had the capacity to be on the headstrong, stubborn side, as well. The two of them had easily recovered their good humor with one another and had learned to no longer mention his business in polite conversation, or else run the risk of sparking another spat. She had agreed, as an exception to this, to come over to his tent for a while as he showed off his new purchase to her. It wasn't _too_ related to his company, so she hadn't really seen a reason to get huffy about it. Perhaps because she thought she ought to cut him some slack, she had conceded with his idea to make plans just to spend the day together. So far, all was going well.

"Well, if you ask me," said Norma, rising from her seat and crossing over to the Once-Ler, "you looked like somebody really important to begin with." She gave him a tiny grin, blushing as she caught his gaze.

Once-Ler blushed, as well, feeling his heart give a weak little stutter as he replied softly, "Thanks. I'm glad you think so." Smiling in return, he nodded and said, "But I gotta admit, it _does _feel good to be able to shake things up a little bit, y'know? This is different, buuuut . . . I think I like it." Pausing, he drew himself up to full height, the grin on his face broadening as he added with his usual optimism, "I mean, look at this! Isn't it _awesome_?"

"Hmm . . . " Norma said, pursing her lips. With a giggle, she leaned forward and straightened his lapels, also pausing to adjust his slightly-askew tie. Patting his chest resolutely, she nodded and looked brightly up at him, saying, "Now it is! You look like a million dollars."

"Literally," he laughed, his entire face lighting up with that same old boyish smile. "I've never worn so much green in my whole life."

"It's a good color for you. It brings out your eyes."

Absently, Norma reached up and brushed back his bangs, only pausing when she realized how close the two of them were standing. She held his gaze for just a moment, remembering her mother's advice about dropping a few hints, but pulled away after a few seconds, losing her nerve. She really didn't know or understand what constituted as a "ladylike" hint, and certainly did not want to seem too forward with someone who trusted her as deeply as he did. As much as the thought of being the Once-Ler's girlfriend thrilled her, she also feared the alternative, that he would not return her feelings and things would just be made awkward between them.

The Once-Ler felt his cheeks turn an even darker shade of red and he gave an awkward, nervous little laugh, backing away a step, as well. He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced off to the side, doing his best to appear oblivious. It was becoming increasingly difficult these days to hide how he felt for Norma. He was still biding his time, waiting for the right moment to reveal his affections, and didn't want it to be spoiled. Still, that was much easier said than accomplished. As erratic and spur-of-the-moment he was in his personality, it nearly killed him to be this filled with emotion, so excited and proud and enthralled with his new love, and not be able to say anything until the moment presented itself.

He would know, though, when the time was right. He was not really very accomplished when it came to looking farther ahead into the future - he was the kind of person who was very direct and literal and never stopped to think about the long run. But somehow, he had the feeling that he'd just _know_.

Clearing his throat, he allowed the smile to return to his face and nudged Norma's ankle gently with his foot, asking quietly, "Hey. Are we still on for this Friday?"

"Of course," responded Norma, quickly regaining her usual bold confidence, twirling a lock of her hair absentmindedly around her index finger before letting it bounce free. "I'm looking forward to it. It's been too long since we were last able to show off our awesome party skills together, after all."

With a laugh, the Once-Ler said, "You know it! I can't believe it took this long to get the party organized. Things have been _crazy_ at work lately, with, uh . . . " thinking of a way to delicately avoid talking about the factory, he glanced down at his feet a moment before continuing quickly, "all this paperwork and all these orders and things. We've hardly had any time to even _think _about it, y'know?"

Norma nodded. "I can imagine," she said, keeping her tone light and casual despite the ever-so-slight disapproval he saw in her eyes. "They've been keeping you on your toes, that's for sure. Just make sure you don't work too hard, alright?"

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that," said the Once-Ler. "We're starting to hire more people to help us with the work, sooooo that's at least a little stress off my shoulders."

(He didn't think he really needed to mention how stressful the _process_ of hiring those people actually was, nor did he need to disclose just how exhausted being CEO has already left him. That was highly confidential information. And besides, it would only worry her.)

At least he had the party on Saturday night to look forward to. His mother's suggestion to throw a gala to celebrate the successful takeoff of Thneed Incorporated had finally come to fruition, after five months of practically slaving to get the factory built in the first place. Now that they finally had the celebrity status to do so, Oncie and his family had pulled a few strings, crossed some t's, dotted some i's, and in an instant had gotten approval from the Mayor of Greenville to host the party right in the town square. (It seemed almost deliciously ironic that the party would be held right in the same place where, mere months ago, the Once-Ler had been struggling to get noticed by all his future customers.)

The Once-Ler had to admit, he had been somewhat reluctant to throw a party to begin with, sensing that perhaps instead of focusing on frivolous things, he needed to get to work and concentrate solely on making sure he stayed on top of competition. After a while, though, he had loosened up a little, reasoning that he _deserved_ to have a little fun. His work wasn't going anywhere; there wasn't any harm in enjoying what his success had gotten him, right? What was the point of having all that money if he couldn't use it on the finer things? Like . . . like fancy parties. Yes. This was definitely a good idea.

He was ecstatic, even a little relieved, that Norma had agreed to attend the party with him. He had been a little worried at first that perhaps, given how she obviously disliked the path that his factory was taking, she would not want to come with him. After all, despite how quickly fame and success had crept upon him and swept him into the spotlight, without Norma by his side he was sure to be lonesome at the party. Truthfully, even after five months, he didn't know very many other names in business, other than the ones that were directly involved with his company as associates or benefactors. And his mother had invited quite a crowd, to ensure that he would have plenty of time to mingle and perhaps get his hands on some new business deals already in the works. The more powerful names he could have on the side of Thneed Inc., the better, after all. If he had to face all of them by himself, without her help, he wasn't quite sure _what_ would happen.

And, most importantly, if she weren't there, he would just plain _miss_ her. The gala would be painfully boring without her.

"Weeeeeell," the Once-Ler spoke up after the silence between them had persisted for a good minute long. Consulting the clock hanging on the wall over to the right, he cleared his throat and said, "Looks like my lunch break's just about over. I oughta head back to the office. Oh! But wait a minute! I almost forgot. Don't go just yet - I've got something for you!"

"For me?" repeated Norma, dumbfounded. Blinking with confusion, she pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose and added, "Oh, Oncie, you didn't go and _buy_ something for me, did you? You didn't have to do that. That's your work money, you should save it for something you want." Still, she couldn't hide a gleeful, excited little smile as it danced onto her face. "What is it?" she added, giving in to her own curiosity, leaning forward slightly.

Smiling just as eagerly in return, the Once-Ler sped over to the kitchen table, where, sure enough, a box wrapped in shiny silver paper rested, topped with a dark blue bow. The tall man bustled about the room as if someone had attached tiny wings to his ankles; retrieving the box, he hurried back over to Norma, his eyes wide and bright with enthusiasm. He had been planning this purchase for a while, but it had taken him some time to save up the money that he was earning from his business. Of course, now he was so popular that spending money like this really took very little from his bank account, but this had been one of his first purchases, and so back then it had been decidedly more difficult to obtain. Still, he was proud of himself for it, and he hoped very deeply that she, too, would be pleased with the gift.

"Of course I got you something," said Oncie in response, his smile broadening. "What's the point of having all this money if I can't spend it on cool things, right? And besides, it's not like I'm just blowing it all on something stupid. You _need_ this. And I thiiiiink you'll like it. At least, I hope so." Thrusting the present into her hands, he laughed giddily and said, "Go on, open it!"

"Okay, okay, I'm going. Hold your horses, Oncie," giggled Norma, blushing lightly at his childlike eagerness. She fumbled with the package for a moment, laughing again when she realized how messily the box had been wrapped. The tape was all askew, the paper in gaps in some places. A clear mark that the Once-Ler had taken the time to wrap it up himself. "I wonder what it is," she mumbled, to break the tension of the silence, as she slid her fingernails under the tape.

The paper rattled noisily as she tore it away from the tiny box, allowing it to tumble carelessly onto the floor. The Once-Ler watched in anticipation as the wrapping paper fell away, revealing the tiny black rectangular box. His entire face alight, he glanced up at Norma, trying to gauge her reaction. So far, only surprise registered on her features as she lifted the box to the light, running her fingers along the velvety surface.

"Oooh," she cooed, smirking humorously at the Once-Ler, "the box is classy. It must be expensive," she teased, nudging him gently.

Laughing in return as she lifted the lid from the box, he answered with a lighthearted shrug, "I guess it depends on your definition of expensive. All I know is it took forever for me to be able to buy it."

Norma gasped loudly, her eyes widening behind the cracked lenses of her spectacles as she gazed down at the contents of the box. She looked back up at him, then down at the box again, giving an awed little laugh as she reached into the box, lifting her brand-new pair of eyeglasses into the air. This pair was much more elegant than the pair she had been wearing since practically childhood. The rims, sparkling silver in the light, were smaller, almost invisible, and the lenses were rectangular. They were sturdier-looking than the flimsy, broken plastic pair she was currently wearing, but were also fashionable, as well.

"I figured I owed you," Oncie said, breaking the silence, "since, y'know, it's my fault your glasses got broken in the first place. I tried to get those as close to your prescription as I could manage. Doooooooo you like 'em?"

Giggling, Norma nodded and said, "They're gorgeous! Thank you so much, Oncie! You had me scared for a minute. I thought you'd _really _gone over the deep end and had bought me some cheesy, expensive jewelry or something. These are perfect! Here, I'll put them on right now." Setting down her new pair in order to take off the old ones, Norma tossed back her hair, blinking when the new eyeglasses settled onto her face. She pushed them to a comfortable position on the bridge of her nose, smiling. "There! Oh, these work just fine! A little blurry, but I can go get them corrected on my own time. Thank you for thinking of me like this."

"Hey, don't mention it," said the Once-Ler, grinning broadly, overjoyed at her delight with her present. His heart swelled with pride in himself for being able to select the perfect gift for his friend, and he drew himself up to full height as he added with an amused smirk, "Just be careful with these, alright? 'Cause if you break these, I'm not buying another pair. You'll just have to get the lenses fixed on your own time, with your own money. Like I should've let you do with the first pair," he tacked on jokingly. "Got it?" His eyes glowed with mirth as he winked playfully at her, eliciting from her another laugh.

"I'll treat them as if they are the most precious things I own, sir," replied Norma demurely, putting on a falsely haughty facial expression and dusting off her skirt for a moment before breaking into laughter. "I'm so glad you bought these for me. I know glasses aren't all too fashionable, but I just can't _stand _contact lenses. How do they look on me? You can tell me if they're totally dorky. I don't really mind." She leaned forward slightly, and if the Once-Ler weren't mistaken, he thought he caught a bit of flirtatiousness in the way that she batted her eyelashes at him.

Something about the look in her eyes, the new element that was lurking there, completely unexplored, took him by surprise. He had never seen her look at him that way before. It was just a light, harmless flirtation, he knew, but it still made his heart give a nervous little flutter, all the same. At this point, after five months of his feelings for Norma growing and burning like an endless flame in the pit of his stomach, he was so head-over-heels for her that it was likely that _anything _she did would send him into palpitations. It still bewildered him to think about the fact that someone like her was so willing to devote her time to someone like him, even _before_ all his success and fame and money. It was strange and unusual to think of himself as worth more than just an immediate dollar-value, and the fact that Norma had shown him how much more he was than all that made him that much more in love with her.

Perhaps it was just a complete overreaction to take one miniscule little eyelash-flutter as a sign that he possibly _did _stand a chance with her. It was probably a totally illogical line of reasoning, and the Once-Ler was more than likely getting very much ahead of himself. But that was just his personality. He had always posessed a larger-than-life temperament, and his completely irrational sense of optimism was more often a curse than a blessing. He had never been very tactful when it came to the ladies, so he wouldn't doubt it at all if all these combined factors resulted in his tricking himself into thinking something was there between them that really didn't exist.

Maybe so. But he at least had to _try_.

"Whaaaat? Okay, _no_, you don't look _dorky_," said The Once-Ler, folding his arms across his chest. "You look great! They're great! They really suit you! See? With my new suit and with your new glasses, we'll be, like . . . the best-dressed people at the party this Friday!" He snickered, reaching out and ruffling her curly hair, the two of them laughing lightheartedly in unison.

Norma snorted, rolling her eyes playfully. "Suuuuuuure," she joked, poking him in the rib cage with her index finger. "Because fashion has aaaaaalways mattered to you, Once-Ler."

"Hey, for all you know, it could."

"Somehow I doubt that, Mr. Horizontally-Black-And-Gray-Striped Pants."

"Whoa! I thought you liked those," said the Once-Ler, laughing lightly, a crooked smile on his face. Teasingly, he nudged her in the rib cage, feeling the blush on his cheeks darken as he added, "Aaaaaaanyways, I probably oughta get back to work now, but hey, I really can't wait for the party. I guess I'll pick you up around eight? Or do you wanna just meet me there?"

The smile on Norma's face softened and her brown eyes gained a thoughtful tint as she replied, "Oh, would you pick me up this time around? I know we just met up in town together last time we went to a party, but i-it just occured to me that you've never met my family before. And I've met yours. So I wanted to introduce you." She paused, looking him up and down, obviously trying to gauge his reaction. "Is that alright with you?"

"Hmm? Oh! Oh, yeah! Sure! That sounds great to me!" the Once-Ler stuttered in reply, raising his eyebrows with faint surprise. He hadn't really thought about it until now, but he really _hadn't _met Norma's family before, and now, he had to admit, the idea of finally coming face-to-face with them intrigued him. "Maybe I could swing by a little early, so we could all hang out and talk for a little while before we have to leave for the party?"

"Would you?" answered Norma, her eyes lighting up at the suggestion. Bouncing twice on the balls of her feet, she said giddily, "Oh, that would be _great_! I know my sister's dying to meet you, and my mother will want to talk with you, of course. Dad's . . . quiet, but I imagine he'll come around soon enough, and - well, I'm sure it'll be just fine. I'm just glad you all get to finally meet in person!"

The Once-Ler nodded, the smile on his face brightening in response to her enthusiasm. "Yeah, same here!" Raising his eyebrows and adjusting his tie with a triumphant, amused smirk, he added, "I hope I impress them! I, uh, I wouldn't wanna give 'em a bad impression of me or anything."

Part of him also hoped that Norma's parents would be at least a tiny bit nicer to him than his family had been to Norma when he had first introduced them to her. A few months back, when construction on his factory had first begun, he had had the idea of having Norma over for lunch with his family. While Chet and Brett had certainly taken a shine to her - they had both flirted unabashedly with her the entire time, and that of course had made Oncie extremely jealous, despite the fact that Norma had not returned their advances - the rest of his family had not been quite so accepting of her. The entire time, his mother had fired snide, impossible questions in Norma's direction, criticized the girl's style of dress, and behaved in an all-around standoffish manner towards her. Aunt Grizelda and Uncle Ubb had remained, as usual, fairly indifferent, but of course had enjoyed getting a laugh out of Oncie's discomfort just as much as ever.

Norma had been as diplomatic as possible in response to all this, keeping a brave face the whole time, despite getting flustered once or twice. It had been a difficult situation for both of them to be placed in, and he hoped dearly that they would not have to face it again with her family. Especially because of how strongly he cared for her. He wanted desperately for her family to like having him around; maybe they, in turn, would encourage Norma to begin a more romantic relationship with the Once-Ler. And a good relationship with her parents and sister would make the transition easier if a deeper relationship between them ever _did _happen.

It would take a great deal of effort on the Once-Ler's part to keep himself from growing too nervous about the whole thing. Norma was important to him, and this was more than just a matter of making a good first impression on his friend's family. If they didn't like him and somehow discouraged Norma from seeing him anymore, then he would inevitably lose his dearest friend. What if they _didn't _like him? What sort of things would they _say_ to Norma about him?

He had always been the sort of person to want _so_ badly to be liked, to always walk around trying to impress everyone and keep a smile on his face, acting as though nothing ever got through to him. Showing everyone how great he was and having them acknowledge his accomplishments always, in turn, seemed to give him a better sense of self-worth. From a young age, he had always needed applause as a source of encouragement, and had learned a little bit to crave praises, especially considering the fact that he didn't hear them from his family very often. Or _ever_, really. He often put a lot of pressure on himself to be somebody that could make everyone happy all at once; this, perhaps, was his deepest flaw, wanting so badly to impress the whole world.

Still, he had his new factory now to thank for his sudden celebrity. His popularity was beginning to soar; the thneed was practically a household item by this point. Everyone in Greenville had heard of him, and probably even people outside of the town. No, _definitely_ people outside of the town! He was a somebody. Somebody really important. Her parents were bound to be impressed by that, right? Who wouldn't be glad if their daughter brought home a successful, well-to-do businessman? Especially one with as much renown as him?

Right. Right. He was probably just blowing the whole thing entirely out of proportion. Who was he kidding? Her family would like him. This wasn't a _test_, it was just a little get-together where he could introduce himself and hopefully make a lasting impression on Norma's family, without putting too much pressure on himself. He had nothing to worry about. They'd like him. A little. Right?

Norma's facial expression softened, as if she could read his mind. (He wouldn't doubt it if she _did _know exactly what he was thinking; not only did she happen to know him better than anyone else in the entire world, but because his emotions had always been particularly easy to read. He was an open book, haphazard and adoring. Whatever he was feeling was always right there in his eyes for the whole world to see.)

"Hey," she said, her voice soft and surprisingly comforting, given the lighthearted tone of their conversation, "don't worry, okay, Once-Ler? You _are_ gonna make a good impression. If I didn't like being with you, then I wouldn't have stuck around with you as long as I already have, and my parents know that." Standing on her tiptoes, she stroked the clean-shaven smoothness of his rounded cheek, pulling him into a tight hug. "They'll love you. You're a good guy. A really good guy."

"You think so?"

Norma nodded, her curls bouncing around her collarbones. "I _know _so," she answered, her voice a low, almost maternal murmur. "I wish you could see yourself how I see you."

Unable to help himself, he gave a soft little laugh, smiling crookedly. "Uhhh, that depends," he replied humorously, attempting to lighten the mood a little. "Do I even wanna _know _how you see me? It might not be too good."

"Oncie," she admonished, grinning and blushing, taking both sides of his face in her hands, "I'm trying to be serious here. If that's possible for you." She snickered lightly, softening somewhat as she added, slowly and clearly, "I see you as absolutely wonderful, inside and out."

The blush on his face instantly darkening, he cleared his throat and gave her a soft smile, his eyes brightening. His heart gave a faint little stutter, and suddenly he was very aware of their closeness. Giving another laugh, though this one was considerably more nervous and awkward, he reached up to rub the back of his neck slowly.

"Wow," he said, awestruck, managing to make the one word three syllables. He paused for a moment, drawing a shaky breath, then added, stuttering lamely, "Uh, y-you, uh, you're pretty great, yourself. A whole lot more amazing than you give yourself credit for."

Pulling him back in for another embrace, hiding her face in his shoulder, she mumbled against him, "You're so sweet." Her arms tightened around him, fingers stroking his shoulder blades absently, and he returned the gesture, his fingertips idly sliding along the length of her spine. "Everything's gonna be just fine. Don't worry. I know sometimes you drive yourself crazy worrying about what people think of you, but you don't need too. You've got a good heart. Just relax," she continued quietly, smiling into his shoulder.

"Hey, uh . . . thanks for this," he mumbled after a prolonged period of silence, his mind buzzing with ecstasy as her words filled his head and made his heart tighten and flutter with hope. "For _everything_, really. I don't think I can even tell you how much I appreciate it." He paused for a moment or two, then pulled back slowly from the embrace, sighing softly and giving her a gentle smile, his hands still resting on her shoulders lightly. "I-I guess I oughta head back to work," he replied sheepishly.

"Oh," breathed Norma, her cheeks a dark red, as well, her eyes alight with a new sort of spirit that he had yet to see in her. Grinning, she nodded and replied, a bit on the flustered side, "Y-yeah, I guess so. Sorry for keeping you so long." Pulling gently out of his arms and smoothing out her skirt, she gave him one last affectionate pat on the shoulder, saying quickly, "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay. Bye, Norma."

"Bye."

As she left the cottage, the Once-Ler slumped back in his seat, unbelievably giddy, to the point of trembling.

Maybe Norma was right. Maybe he really _didn't _need to worry. At least, not _so _much.

* * *

As Norma headed back home, following the winding dirt path out of the Truffula Valley, her head was spinning. A thousand thoughts a minute rushed back and forth at full-speed, confused and jumbled and incredibly loud, impossible to ignore. Why did it always seem that the Once-Ler could both make her feel so at peace and comfortable and also frazzled and flustered at the same time? It was always two completely different sides of a coin with him. And something about that, while it was indeed frustrating at times, totally thrilled her in a different sense, as well. She didn't know exactly when she had started feeling this way for him; perhaps it had _always _been there, and the new level to their relationship was making her realize it for the first time.

She couldn't help but be completely enthralled by his outgoing personality. Everything about him was loud and happy and free, but at the same time, his insecurities seemed to have a contrasting hold on him that she couldn't quite understand. His self-confidence was more than skin-deep, she knew, but just as proud as he always seemed of his accomplishments, there was always a part of him that seemed much more underwhelmed in himself. It concerned and even frightened her a little to see what a low sense of self he had, despite all that he had done and all that he _was_ as a person. Everything about him captivated her in a way that she had never before known; why was it that he, too, couldn't see the soul that she saw when she looked at him?

Sighing softly to herself, she tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced down at her feet, trying not to concentrate on the gleeful, erratic thumping of her heart. She had left the Once-Ler's house about ten minutes ago, but still, the dark red blush would not fade fro her features. She could still feel the tingling sensation of his fingers brushing against her back, the warmth of their embrace. It all just seemed to mean so much more these days than it ever had before, and it was intimidating. She had long accepted that she was in love with the Once-Ler, but while she had grown comfortable with _this _idea, the new thought that troubled her was: how would she tell him? When would she tell him? _Should _she even tell him? He was so busy with the factory these days, after all, so perhaps he wouldn't want to be bothered with a relationship.

No, that didn't seem quite like him . . . even _with _all his factory work, he had still always managed to make time for Norma before. He _liked_ being with her, he said that much himself. That means that there was certainly potential there. Of course!

Norma was pulled out of her thoughts by a rustling in the nearby bushes. She had not made it completely outside of the Truffula Valley yet, so the skinny trees with fluffy, brightly-colored tufts surrounded her on all sides, bending in the breeze. Beneath a patch of orange Truffula trees was a dense thicket of shubbery, and there seemed to be something moving inside it. The leaves trembled with the force of motion, the brambles crackling as a fuzzy orange something-or-other shoved its way out of the foliage. When the animal stumbled its way into the path before her, Norma realized that it was none other than the Guardian of the Forest himself.

"Oh!" gasped Norma, blinking with surprise, staring down wide-eyed at the Lorax, who grumpily folded his arms across his chest. "It's you. The Lorax. What were you doing in that bush?"

The Lorax huffed indignantly, puffing out his chest, plucking a few stray brambles from his massive mustache as he replied, with an air of extreme self-importance, "I was helpin' the barbaloots look for berries. Ever since your little buddy started choppin' down the trees, there's been less Truffula fruits to go around. They're having to forage more often, and since they couldn't find any, they asked me to help. Got a problem with that?"

Norma frowned, blushing with embarrassment as the Lorax brought to light the increasing severity of the situation surrounding the Once-Ler's factory. Despite how much she tried to support him, especially considering how much he had wanted this success to begin with and how hard he had worked to get to this point, she couldn't help but feel angry when she thought of what he was doing to the environment. He didn't seem to realize it yet because the symptoms of his factory weren't showing very clearly on the Valley yet, but Norma had a horrible feeling that sooner or later, things were going to go wrong.

She swallowed hard, looking off into the distance for a moment, where she could see Chet - or was it perhaps Brett? She couldn't tell - swinging an axe haphazardly at the Truffulas at the top of the hill. She winced, turning back to the Lorax, her shoulders caving in meekly.

"I'm so sorry," she said in a small voice. Clearing her throat, she began again, more bravely this time, "I don't feel very good about this, either, to be honest with you. I'm very worried about the Once-Ler. I-I just don't know what to do." She paused, then lifted an eyebrow and asked, out of a horrible curiosity, "How bad have things gotten for the animals so far, do you think?"

The Lorax shrugged, looking a little bit on the weary side himself, now that Norma thought of it. Sighing, he said, "So far, we've been able to manage. But it ain't gonna be that way for long, I can tell you that much. With the fruits gettin' so scarce, soon the barbaloots won't have nothin' to eat! And what are we s'posed to do when that happens? I can tell things are gettin' worse. Look there. See how the tufts on the Truffula trees are startin' to droop?"

The Lorax gestured over to the nearest trees, where, sure enough, the colorful tufts were beginning to sag. Their color was also starting to fade somewhat, almost as if they were starting to lose their energy. Norma gasped, wondering why she hadn't been able to notice that in the first place. She supposed she had been so caught up in thinking about her love life that she hadn't taken account of what the man she loved was doing to the world around him. This realization placed an even heavier weight of guilt upon her chest.

"Yes," said Norma with a slow nod, "I see. Why are they doing that? I've never seen them look that way before, even during the colder weather." She didn't even know why she asked; she had a good feeling what the cause was to begin with.

Just as she had suspected, the Lorax replied, "Why do you think, huh? 'Cause of Beanpole's little _factory_. They're starting to wilt on account of all this smog! Don't you see? If this ain't a clue about what's comin' later, then I don't know what is! We've gotta do somethin'! Look, you gotta talk to him. I've tried. I've tried over and over again. He won't listen to me. But he's gotta listen to _you_, alright? You followin' me?"

"Wh-what? What makes you think that he'll listen to me?" said Norma, shaking her head. "I-I don't mean any disrespect, but you know how much he loves his work. I've tried to talk to him about this, too, but . . . I really don't think there's any convincing him otherwise. He really thinks this is what's best. And . . . and maybe he knows what he's doing, I don't know! I don't want to second-guess him like this."

Giving her a deadpan stare, the Lorax huffed, his mustache billowing. "You kiddin' me? You know as well as I do that that kid doesn't have a _clue_. Look, all I'm sayin' is . . . " he paused for a moment, looking around with a soft sigh before shaking his head and turning back to Norma, a grave expression on his face. "Will ya talk to him for me? Please? This is _bad_. I can feel it. Just . . . can't ya do anything that might distract him from his work and at least slow down production? You know the guy better than I do. Can you _try_?"

Norma paused, considering this for a moment. _Could _she? After all, the Once-Ler had depended on her from the very beginning to act as a source of comfort and support for him. He had shown such vulnerability with her today when she had been trying to get him to calm down that she couldn't imagine what would happen if she suddenly took that away. With the way his family sometimes treated him, she was probably the only comfort that he ever even _got _from anyone.

He already knew how she felt about the factory, but she had always wanted to stay with him for fear that he might lose himself even more without someone there to tell him that it was alright. It seemed almost like betraying him to suddenly take the moral high ground and tell him that everything that he had wanted all along was a bad idea. He had always seemed so happy to share his plans with her, so thrilled that she wanted to listen to him. What if he took it the wrong way, and misunderstood it as her growing tired of his dreaming? She didn't feel that way at all, but she knew the Once-Ler's tendency to jump to conclusions on occassion.

Still . . . this was drastically important. It was for his own good. And the Lorax was right - the Once-Ler _did _listen to her, on most occassions at least. Maybe he would finally see things her way this time around.

Resolutely, Norma nodded and agreed, "I think . . . you're right. I'll have to try."


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Together At Last

On Saturday evening, as she waited for the Once-Ler to show up at her house, Norma was curled up on the living room sofa with her younger sister and allowing herself the rare luxury of entertaining herself with trashy television. The T.V. show that she and Jean were currently watching was one of their mother's favorite soap operas; while Norma typically preferred reading a good book over watching television, occassionally she treated herself to the empty calories that a soap opera provided. This one in particular was especially cheesy, complete with awkward camera angles, lots of crying women - and sometimes men, too, much to Jean's amusement - and a melodramatic script.

"I don't believe this," said Jean to the T.V. as she watched a teary-eyed doctor jostle a terrified-looking young girl by the shoulders onscreen. (Norma's younger sister claimed up and down that she, too, abominated and detested those "cheap soap shows", but still never failed to get very involved with the plot whenever she caught an episode.) "Who does he think he is, huh, Norma? Just last week, Anna said for him to leave her alone. They're _so_ not good together."

"Mm," replied Norma, only halfway interested, unable to keep herself from glancing periodically at the door, as if the Once-Ler would magically appear in the doorway if she wished for it enough. "Horrible. Now, which one's Anna, again?" she asked, arching her eyebrows, at least attempting to absorb herself in the conversation to pass the time and hopefully quell her excitement somewhat.

Jean made a sound of annoyance, gesturing with a slim finger to the fair beauty on the screen, who was currently weeping and sniveling away. "How many times do I have to keep telling you this stuff, Norma? That one's Anna. And the dude right there is - "

"George."

"No. His _twin_ is George. _That's_ Edgar."

"He has a twin?"

"Yes! Duh!" With a sort of friendly exasperation, Jean smirked and elbowed her sister lightly. "You, dear sister, have much to learn." Pausing a moment, she cleared her throat and stuck her nose primly in the air, adding, "I-I mean, not that I'm all that concerned with this show, anyway. I've got lots of better things to do than watch stuff like this. I'm just saying. Even an idiot could figure this plot out if they watched a couple episodes."

"Oh, of course," said Norma with a nod, deciding to humor Jean. Sighing, she rose from her seat, stretching lithely for a moment before turning to her sister and adding, "Okay, I'm going to take a bathroom break. Let me know if I miss anything."

Jean waved her hand casually, not taking her eyes away from the action onscreen. Norma grinned, amused by her younger sister's obvious enthusiasm, and headed down the hall towards the bathroom. Slipping into the restroom, she closed the door behind her, trying to be as quick as possible, so as not to miss anything important on the television program. (As much as she hated to admit it, sometimes it was just downright entertaining to watch that type of show, even if the writing and acting were both generally terrible.) When she finished up in the bathroom, she made for the door, pausing at the mirror and reviewing her appearance. The last time that she and the Once-Ler had gone to a party together, she had wanted to look nice, but this time around, she was especially conscious of her appearance, and had taken the time to be meticulous about it.

Her hair, while normally hanging limply by her shoulders in a frizzy disarray, seemed much more in-control this evening, instead falling in loose, soft curls, pinned back with a silver hairclip. Jean had helped her to achieve this lustrous, comfortable style, and had also assisted her with her makeup. She hadn't put on a lot, and yet her brown eyes were still given the illusion of being much larger than usual behind her glasses. There was a light pink tint to her cheeks - though Norma couldn't be certain if it was the makeup or thoughts of spending the entire evening at the Once-Ler's side that had put it there. Her wardrobe of choice for the evening, a deep burgundy brocade dress, was a much more elegant color and cut than she was accustomed to wearing, but she thought she pulled it off surprisingly nicely.

A smile stretched onto her features, and her reflection in the mirror mimicked the action. Tonight was going to be _good_, she could just feel it. It would be just like old times again, and she and the Once-Ler could enjoy each others' company and not have anything to worry about other than just having a nice evening together.

(At first, she hadn't been very inclined to attend the party with him; despite being his best friend and wanting to support him no matter what, she had been uncertain in the beginning if she wanted to go to a gala that supported his factory. It had seemed almost like she was betraying the entire forest just to say yes. Still, when he had looked at her that way, his eyes all big and bright, looking _so_ hopeful, how could she have said no?)

Just as quickly as the smile on her face had appeared, however, it faltered as another thought crossed her mind and ruined the delusion that tonight would be absolutely perfect. She had made a promise with the Lorax that she would talk with Oncie about his factory. Though she doubted her friend would listen, given his notorious stubbornness when it came to his field of work, she had still offered to at least try, and it would be cowardly of her to back out of it. Truthfully, she had been trying to talk to him bout it all week, but every time she began to strike up that conversation, she had ended up losing her nerve and squirming out of it. Tonight, though, she was determined not to chicken out again; she _had_ to speak with him about this. It was _drastically _important, not just for her or for the forest, but for the well-being of the Once-Ler, too.

Norma couldn't rightfully explain why she was suddenly so sensitive about hurting the Once-Ler's feelings. She had always been the sort of personality to never hesitate when it came to speaking what was on her mind, and she certainly hadn't made an exception to this rule for Oncie in the past. At first, it had been easy, and she had been all too glad to tell him exactly what she thought of his factory and business expansions. Lately, however, she had been so hesitant to express her thoughts to him, growing increasingly protective of him. Perhaps it was because the Lorax had voiced similar opinions to hers, and now she felt as though she needed to make excuses for her friend or wait for him to magically get the idea on his own. And _that_ certainly wasn't going to happen, so why was she holding her breath? There was no need to be scared of the Once-Ler. He was her best friend. He would understand.

Nodding confidently to herself, Norma brushed back her hair, squaring her shoulders and doing her best to steel her emotions. No more hesitating. This would be good for both of them. And she needn't even talk to him about everything until the very end of the party, that way they could still enjoy their time together up until that point, should he happen to get angry with her, after all.

"Norma!" came Jean's voice from down the hall as Norma exited the restroom. "The Once-Ler's here to pick you up!"

Her heart leaping in her chest, Norma smoothed out her skirt, rushing into the living room once again, where, sure enough, her favorite tall friend, dressed impeccably in his brand-new green suit, was standing in the doorway, waiting for her. Her gave her an awkward wave from over Jean's shoulder as the redheaded girl blathered on to him about the television show she had been watching, all the while fiddling with her nails. (Norma could tell from this attention that Jean was giving him that her younger sister was instantly smitten with him. Jean always got talkative and fidgety around boys she liked.) Norma strode over to the Once-Ler, giving him a broad smile; she had never imagined herself being so glad to see that goofy, boyish grin that he gave her in return.

"Hey," he greeted with a light laugh, still trapped halfway-in, halfway-out of the doorway, since Jean was barring the way. "Wow, you look _great_! See, I told you we'd totally be the best-dressed ones there."

"Thank you," said Norma, glancing down at her feet with a shy blush.

(Normally, she would have taken his compliment in stride and flirted with him in return, but something about her thirteen-year-old sister being in the room unnerved her. Nonetheless, Oncie did not appear to pertubed by Jean's presence, his blue eyes lingering on Norma's, just as adoringly as he always seemed to look at her.)

Looking back up at him quickly, Norma breezed past Jean and added quickly, "Oh, come in! You can't meet my family standing out there all night, silly!"

As her sister moved out of the way, the Once-Ler laughed awkwardly and headed inside, ducking his head slightly to accomodate for the short height of the entryway. Closing the door slowly behind him, he glanced around the cozy living space, grinning broadly, his cheeks tinted with a rosy, warm pink hue. He nodded quickly, then looked back to Norma, his eyes wide with his typical excitement and eagerness.

"Is it, like, _totally _typical and cliche for me to say 'nice place you got here'?" he asked her, a soft laugh issuing from his lips.

Norma smirked with amusement, reaching for his hand and twining her fingers through his. "A little bit," she conceded, wrinkling her nose playfully. "But coming from you, I don't really mind so much."

"Good! Weeeeeell, in that case, I'll have to think of more of 'em I can use at the party tonight," he teased in return, giving her a gentle nudge. He fell silent for a few seconds, taking in his surroundings, letting out an awed little laugh as his eyes fell upon a particularly embarrassing school photo of Norma from at least the fifth grade, back from when she had gotten that terrible haircut that made her head look like a salad bowl. "Aww! Is this you?"

"Oh, Oncie, _really_? Y-you don't have to look at that one," she responded lamely, her cheeks a fiery red as she rushed over to his side, where he was currently holding the photo in his hands. She tried to ignore Jean's giggling from behind her as she added breezily, "Th-that one was taken ages ago."

Glancing over at her, he grinned widely and replied, with a surprising gentleness behind his typical spastic, loud inflections, "You look so _cute_!" He laughed giddily once again, then gave her another look, blushing faintly and setting the picture down with a nervous laugh. "Aaah, sorry. That must be kinda awkward for you. Ehehe. If it makes you feel better, I've got a _ton _of dorky school pictures from when I was a kid that you can look at back at my place. I was gap-toothed and everything."

Unable to help herself, Norma smiled, tapping the tip of his rounded nose as she said jokingly, "Come to think of it, a nice laugh at your expense _would _make me feel much better. Thank you, Once-Ler." Laughing, she gave him a quick wink before noticing that his tie was slightly crooked, once again. She reached out and adjusted it for him, adding softly, "Your tie's messed up again. Oh, you're such a _boy_. There. All better."

"Oh! Hello! Are you the Once-Ler?"

Norma looked over her shoulder, smiling as her mother pranced into the room, looking as bright and lovely as ever. The Once-Ler gave Mrs. Harlow an awkward little wave, grinning broadly as he stepped forward towards her, thrusting his free hand out for her to shake.

"Uh, yep! I-I mean, uh, yes, ma'am," he corrected, chuckling at his nervous stuttering. Making his posture erect, he amended, much more confidently this time, "I'm the Once-Ler. Norma's friend."

Louise, sensing the Once-Ler's anxious tension, gave him a warm smile and, rather than shaking his hand, leaned forward and patted him gently on the shoulder. She brushed her hair out of her face casually, looking up at Oncie with what looked like an expression of approval, and nodded her head quickly, letting out a lilting, airy laugh, almost like wind chimes.

"Oh, of course! Norma's told us all about you," she answered. "And I'd take that as a compliment," she tacked on quickly with a giggle, winking in his direction as Norma gave an indignant cry of "Mother!"

The Once-Ler looked over his shoulder for a moment at Norma, smirking with amusement, then turned back to address her mother. "I'm glad you clarified that, actually, 'cause there's really no telling with Norma just _what_ she'll say about me," he replied with a laugh.

Norma, surprised at the amount of natural charm and charisma that her friend possessed, despite his generally awkward personality, felt that same pink blush return to her cheeks as she glanced between the two of them alternatively. She took just a moment to try and interpret the scene, studying her mother's features closely for any signs of her opinion of Norma's best friend. (Her mother was a relatively easy woman to read, probably because Louise had always been so intuitive with others. If there was one thing that Norma _had_ inherited from her mother, it was perhaps her strong empathy.) Mrs. Harlow seemed impressed so far, though there was a flicker of _something _in her brown eyes that suggested her mother was patient enough to wait the whole evening before gathering an informed opinion of the Once-Ler.

"Hey, no fair," Norma chimed in, hoping to get into the conversation before he and her mother could exchange more embarrassing information about her. Giggling, she scurried up behind Oncie, placing her hands on his shoulders and standing on her tiptoes to lean over slightly and look at him from the side as she added, "If I had known that you and my parents were gonna hold a competition to embarrass me the most the entire night, then I wouldn't have invited you over." She gave Once-Ler a wickedly amused grin, winking quickly before bouncing back over to her mother's side.

Gesturing towards her with his index finger, a humorous grin all over his face, the Once-Ler responded just as lightheartedly, "Weeeeeell, to be fair, my dearest friend in all the world, you _diiiid _kinda know the risks involved when you asked me."

"Oh, would you two _please_ stop flirting long enough for us to get dinner on the table?" Jean said from the couch, a lazy amusement in her voice. Hopping up from the sofa, she strode into the kitchen, though not without sending Norma her own knowing glance before disappearing behind the doorway.

Norma looked over at the Once-Ler, whose face was now such a deep shade of crimson that he looked as though he might melt to the floor in a matter of seconds. Instantly mortified, as well, Norma adjusted her glasses quickly before seizing him gently by the arm and guiding him to the kitchen table to sit down. He stumbled after her, glancing apologetically over his shoulder at Norma's mother before taking a seat beside the curly-haired girl at the table. Louise Harlow bustled around in the kitchen with Jean, preparing dinner, though occassionally Norma could see her lean back to get a look into the other room, obviously spying.

"Oh, don't mind Jean," muttered Norma, glancing down sheepishly at her feet, wishing that her cheeks would keep from turning such a deep shade of red, as well. "She says things like that all the time, but she's really got no idea what she's talking about." Finally gaining the courage to look up at the Once-Ler again, she gave him a small, tentative smile and added gingerly, "I guess maybe meeting my family so soon wasn't such a good idea?"

"Why d'you say that?" Oncie asked, leaning back casually in the chair, a smile playing across his features. "Your family is great! Trust me, compared to mine, this is totally noooo big deal. I just feel bad that I keep ending up accidentally embarrassing you so much."

With the awkward atmosphere between Norma's family and her best friend this evening, the Once-Ler appeared oddly at peace and completely calm, a far cry away from his usual panicky personality. It was strange to see him so at home with himself; strange, yes, but it was a welcome change, Norma thought. It had always left her so disenheartened to know that such a special person was so insecure on the inside, despite his outward confidence. He hadn't lost the awkwardness from when she had first met him - that was as much a part of the Once-Ler his arms and legs, and wasn't about to change anytime soon, she didn't think - but there was a new ease to his personality that she had begun to notice lately. She wasn't entirely certain what had brought it on; perhaps it was the success of his new business. But whatever the reason, she appreciated it.

Norma figured she might as well attempt to be nonchalant, for the Once-Ler's sake. After all, if he could be so valiant and brave about the whole messy ordeal, then so could she. This was _her _family, after all, and as much as she wanted Oncie to leave a good impression on them, she wished for them to leave a similar mark upon him. When this was all said and done, after all, what if he left her house feeling as though he didn't _want_ to stick around and get to know her family any better? If they left a bad taste in his mouth, or accidentally scared him off, then what would happen to her relationship with him? Even if her little crush on him turned out to amount to nothing more than just a silly infatuation, her _friendship _with him would still likely be damaged. Needless to say, she didn't want _that_ to happen; they had already been through some decidedly awkward situations in the past. She wouldn't want one more round of walking on eggshells to cause him to become exasperated and leave.

_Oh, don't be silly_, Norma reminded herself, correcting her posture in her seat and giving the Once-Ler a new, more confident smile. _This is going to be just fine. A little awkward, but bearable. And he hasn't even met my dad yet. I'm sure he can handle a few offhand jokes from Jean here and there._

"Maybe we're just destined to make fools out of each other every time we're together in a public setting," Norma joked, determined to bring the lighthearted, gleeful tone from their typical banter back into the conversation.

Her stomach instantly unclenched when she elicited a friendly tenor laugh from the Once-Ler, who had by this point made himself so comfortable in the chair that he was rocking it back on its back legs, his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. It gave her comfort to know that at least he was at ease with the situation, and quickly encouraged her to do the same. Relaxing her shoulders, she gave a long, slow sigh, then quickly realized that trying to force relaxation upon oneself when one was already worried only made the tension and anxiety _worse_ than before. What a situation this was.

"Hey, if that's the case, maybe I oughta find a way to ditch you before we can be seen together at the party tonight," he laughed in return, the affection in his tone and shining in his eyes as he stared at her greatly contrasting the sarcasm of the sentence. He nudged her ankle with his foot lightly under the table, adding, "I've got lots of important people coming here tonight, sooooo _try_ to keep yourself under control." He gave her a quick, conspiritorial wink, and Norma couldn't help but giggle in response.

Leaning instinctively closer to him, she replied with that same playful jubilance and a wide grin, "I'll do the best I can to keep myself in check."

His facial expression softened somewhat as he gave a gentle chuckle, glancing momentarily down at his hands. He laced his fingers together, propping his elbows up on the table, looking very thoughtful for several long seconds. There was a long pause of silence between the two of them (for whenever the Once-Ler was thinking long and hard about something, he always became intensely quiet), and at last he turned back to face her. There was a somewhat tentative look in his eyes, which made Norma suspect that he had in mind what he wanted to say, he only didn't quite know how to word it.

"Nervous about tonight?" Norma asked gently, allowing her own playful expression to turn a bit more serious. She reached out to adjust his tie, brushing stray lint away from his lapels distractedly.

Watching her fingers as they nimbly worked at his tie, he gave a short, embarrassed nod and mumbled, "A little. I mean, pretty much the whole future of my career kinda depends on, y'know, whether or not I'm able to make business buddies at this thing. This is waaaaaay more about reputation than I ever expected it to be." If she wasn't mistaken, Norma thought he almost looked a little fearful as he said this.

"You can handle it," she told him assuredly, nodding her head. Knowing his tendency to slip towards insecurity when he was under a great amount of pressure, she did her best to keep her voice level and calm as she reached for his hand, stroking her thumb along the surface of his hand idly and saying, "You built this business, right? And so, you know what that means? It means there's nobody in this whole world that's better for this job than _you_. Sure, this isn't what you _expected_, but hey, that doesn't mean you can't learn. Right?"

"You're darn right I can learn!" he exclaimed, encouraged by her words. Grinning all over his face, he leaned forward slightly towards her, an electric, almost contagious energy pulsing through him, brightening his features. "You know what? _Thank _you. You're _totally _right! I mean, why didn't I think of it that way sooner? Without me, all these people that are comin' to the party tonight, well . . . most of 'em wouldn't even have _jobs_! And all the other businessmen that I'm looking to impress kinda _have_ to listen to me, now that I think about it. I mean, if they don't, they'd totally miss out on a chance to make more money . . . " laughing with relief, he sighed and she could visibly see the tension fall from his shoulders. "You're a genius, Norma."

Blushing at his praises, Norma stared up at him and gave his hand a squeeze. She was unable to hold back a small smile as she stared into the feverish brilliance of his blue eyes, her heart rendered completely warmed by his newfound eagerness. The Once-Ler was the sort of person who needed that sort of constant reinforcement, and while she hoped that one day soon he would be able to overcome his insecurities and no longer _need_ any extra applause to set himself straight, she was determined to be there for him for every instant until then that he may need her. It never failed to amaze her to observe what kind of effect her words could have on him at times.

It was always a toss-up with the Once-Ler; on most occassions, he was too stubborn and caught up in his work to accept any form of criticism or listen to what others had to say. Conversely, sometimes he could be so impressionable, so easily swayed that Norma worried about him from time to time. Especially considering the monumental decisions that he would have to face in his business career. He didn't seem to realize the enormity of the environmental situation that faced him - every time Norma had tried to talk about it to him in the past, her words had always been greeted with a sheepish little laugh and a "hey, how bad can it _be_?"

This time, however, she was _determined _to make an impression on him. The matter at hand was drastically important; it was bigger than him, bigger than her, than _all _of them. She had to at least take the chance, instead of just sit idly by and let such a beautiful Valley be reduced to nothing.

"Well, you don't need a genius to tell you that you're smart and talented," she replied, quickly pulling herself from her troubled thoughts, experiencing a guilty pang in her chest as she realized that she had been thinking such negative things about her friend who _trusted _her. Smirking with amusement, determined to recover her good humor, she nudged him playfully and added with a lighthearted snicker, "Are you sure you don't just like hearing me compliment you?"

The Once-Ler laughed, a crooked grin slanting across his face. He was prepared to answer, but his words were drowned out by the sound of another person entering the room through the kitchen entryway. Norma looked up at the sudden scuffling into the room, smiling gently at the short, stout figure who waddled over to the dining room table with a quizzical, contemplative look on his face.

"Ah! So, is this the young man you've been talking about, Normie?" said the man, squinting with a thoughtful little smile on his face as he surveyed Oncie.

This was Martin Harlow, Norma's father, and the resemblance between the two of them was so strong that there left little doubt of this fact. Norma glanced to the side and giggled as she watched recognition and mild surprise flicker across the Once-Ler's features; obviously, _he_ thought they looked alike, too. Martin's hair, frizzy, brown and receding, stuck out beside his ears in untidy tufts, his bald forehead shining. He wore a pair of sturdy glasses much too large for his face that made his eyes appear tiny and beady, like a mole's. The rotund gentleman was dressed in blue plaid and a pair of industrious denim jeans, oddly casual in comparison to how elegantly his wife dressed on a daily basis.

"Oh, yes," said Norma, rising quickly from the table, taking the Once-Ler's hand and leading him over to her father close to the doorway. "Dad, this is the Once-Ler. He's a very good friend of mine."

"He's a _businessman_, Daddy! A famous one, with a limo and everything!" piped in Jean, leaning her head into the room through the kitchen entryway for just an instant, a broad grin on her face. Jean gave Oncie a wistful glance before hurrying back into the kitchen with uncharacteristic shyness, making Norma smile knowingly to herself.

"A businessman?" repeated Mr. Harlow, lifting his bushy eyebrows with intrigue. "Is that so? Well, what's your trade, my boy? I might have heard of you! I work in Marketing, myself!"

Instantly, a dark red blush spread across the Once-Ler's features and a broad grin stretched onto his face, clearly pleased with his newfound popularity. Even after months of practically soaring to success, it somehow still managed to take him by surprise when people told him that they had heard of him. Norma couldn't tell if this was merely false modesty or if somewhere, beneath that ego, he really _was _that humble, deep down. For the time being, though, she found it endearing, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest at the very sight of how bright and hopeful his eyes had become.

That was what she thought she liked best about him, those eyes.

Shaking herself out of her daydream, she, too, felt a scarlet blush color her cheeks as she realized that she had just spent a good portion of time "checking out" her best friend. _Honestly, Norma, _she scolded herself, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. _Even if you _are_ in love with him, the least you can do is respect him instead of gaping at him like some brainless schoolgirl. _

Thankfully, the Once-Ler finally chose to speak, distracting Norma from her embarrassing thoughts. "I'm the C.E.O., President and Founder of Thneed Inc.," he announced with a confidence that she had not seen in him before, his shoulders squared; the boyish grin on his face contradicted the professional image he was trying to create, however, making him look much more like a young boy playing pretend. "It's a kinda _new_ business, making and selling thneeds, but hey! Maybe you've heard of me anyways?" His eyebrows arched excitedly at the end of his sentence.

Father's eyes narrowed thoughtfully and he gave a quizzical tilt of his head. Bemused, he repeated, "A _thneed_, you say? No, I can't say I've ever heard of that. What does it _do_, exactly?"

Norma giggled, unable to help herself as the grin returned to her face as its own rueful ghost. She glanced playfully over at the Once-Ler as she interjected jokingly, "Oh, no, Dad, don't ask him _that_. You'll never get him to be quiet."

"Aah, sir, the question is, what _doesn't_ it do!" exclaimed Oncie before Martin Harlow could get another word in. The Once-Ler laughed, eager as ever to treat every situation as a marketing opportunity, jabbing his index finger pointedly into the air as he continued, "The thneed is a _revolutionary _product! It can be absolutely _anything _that you could possibly think of, so there's endless possibilities!"

To demonstrate, he yanked the fuzzy pink thneed from his pocket (apparently it also held the ability to be immacutely folded into a tiny, portable form, Norma noticed with mild surprise), unfolding it and allowing it to be displayed in its full fuzzy glory. He gave the entire room a broad grin, obviously thoroughly pleased with himself.

"It looks like an itchy pink sweater to me," observed Jean as she entered the room, propping herself in a one-shouldered lean against the wall, arms folded across her chest. "How can that possibly do _everything_? Caaaaaan it end world hunger?" A smug smirk placed itself crookedly onto her face, in that infuriating way that children have when they're determined to make a mess of a situation.

"Jean!" hissed Norma, raising her eyebrows with indignation.

Norma's heart sank as she watched the crimson blush deepen on the Once-Ler's face, though this time, rather than looking flattered, he looked deeply embarrassed. Norma teetered uncertainly between the two of them for a moment, not quite sure how to approach the situation. On the one hand, she knew better than perhaps anyone else in the entire family how to deal with her younger sister's tendency to be a nuisance; on the other hand, it might humiliate the Once-Ler even further to have his friend stand up for him, rather than let him handle the situation on his own. Fidgeting with her dress, Norma looked down at her hands, then cast an apologetic glance in Oncie's direction, relieved when he gave her a quick, barely-there nod of reassurance.

"That's where you misunderstand the _purpose_ of the product," said the Once-Ler, allowing the grin to come back to his face now that he had thought up a smooth recovery. (Norma had always found it amusing that the general awkwardness of his personality always seemed to poof right out of existence whenever he was pitching his invention to potential customers.) "That's exactly why the thneed is so great! This invention is made so that it has the _ability _to be anything you could possibly dream up - I'm talking _totally _endless possibilities here. But! The _customers_ are the ones who decide what they want _their _thneeds to be. The power is in the hands of the individual - there's no limits! Soooooo, like, if somebody _did _figure out how to end world hunger, then if they had a thneed, they could _use_ the product to help along their idea! Get it?"

Jean's facial expression suggested that no, she absolutely did _not _get it.

Before her younger sister could voice this opinion, however, Norma's father piped up, grinning enthusiastically, "You don't say! Well, that's pretty astounding work, m'boy! And for such a young man! How old are you, son?"

Unabashed pride written all over his face, the Once-Ler blinked with mixed surprise and relief, apparently just as astonished as Norma that his roundabout explanation had actually been acceptable. "Uh, twenty-two! I've been working on this idea for _forever_, though. Since I was pretty much a kid."

Martin considered this for a moment, straightening his bifocals, deep in thought. Finally, he let out a deep, booming laugh that settled right in the stomach, clapping the Once-Ler eagerly on the back (Norma covered her hand to keep from giggling as she saw Oncie flinch from both shock and discomfort, his teeth obviously gritted to keep himself from saying anything).

"Would you be willing to let me take that one you've got there with you off your hands?" asked Mr. Harlow, gesturing absently to the thneed hanging from the crook of the younger man's elbow. "How much do you want for it?"

The Once-Ler fumbled with the thneed for a few seconds, accidentally thwacking Norma in the side as he thrusted the pink material into her father's arms. Muttering a quick, sheepish apology to her with a soft laugh, he then turned to Martin, a lopsided smile on his face as he said, "Weeeeell, retail price right now is $3.98, sooooo I think that works for me!"

"Three . . . ninety-eight," repeated Mr. Harlow to himself as he reached in the back pocket of his slacks, fishing around until he produced a worn-out leather wallet. He clicked his tongue habitually as he retrieved the appropriate amount of money, exchanging it with the Once-Ler in return for the fluffy pink thneed. "There you go, Mr. Once-Ler! It looks like money well-spent to me!"

Once-Ler, laughing politely, put the money in his own wallet - which, Norma noticed, was also new, made of a glossy black leather and actually monogrammed with a shiny green 'O'. He gave Mr. Harlow a nod, straightening his tie (or at least trying to, though the action actually left his tie more disheveled than before) before consulting his watch. As usual, her best friend was as jumpy and fidgety as ever, ready to trailblaze off into another plan of his. She had always thought that this was an amusing trait of his, being so focused that he could work on an idea for an invention since _childhood_, and then at the same time be so harebrained that he could change his mind on a whim and end up going off in a completely different direction.

"Thaaaaank you, sir," he answered, flashing her father a surprisingly charismatic grin. "I promise, it'll be the best investment you ever made." Jean snorted in the background at this hyperbole, causing the Once-Ler to look up momentarily, shaken with insecurity for just a moment before recovering himself quickly, clearing his throat. "Uhhh, well, I hate to leave you folks so soon, buuuut I don't wanna end up being late to my own party," he added with an awkward laugh, biting his lower lip tentatively. "We should probably get going, Norma."

"Oh, right," Norma replied, nodding her head a bit too eagerly. Truth be told, she had been aching for him to go ahead and take her to the party and escape the embarrassment of her baby pictures and her younger sister for a while now. Trying not to appear _too_ ready, she gave her family a small smile, waving as she looped her free arm through Oncie's, steering him towards the door. "It _is_ starting to get a little late. If we don't show up soon, then all the guacamole dip will be gone by time we get there!" To punctuate her sentence, she issued forth an over-the-top, slightly disjointed laugh, eliciting raised eyebrows from both Oncie and her mother.

"Well, I hope you both have a lovely time!" called Louise from the hallway as they approached the door. "Norma, just call home if you need us for anything!"

"Take good care of my sister!" added Jean impishly.

Once-Ler, with a good-natured laugh, waved back at them as he held open the front door for Norma, stepping aside to allow her to walk through first. "Don't worry, guys! She's in good hands!"

Norma giggled, turning to face her friend as the door closed behind him, leaving the two of them standing outside on the porch, beneath a canopy of stars. It was just beginning to get dark outside, the sky caught in the middle of turning from a shade of deep purple-blue to black. There were several stars already visible, and the air was becoming cooler and crisper with the arrival of nighttime. The moon hung suspended in a waning crescent, emitting a soft, barely-there glow. All the other houses in her neighborhood seemed to be settling down for the night, as well, the lights from their kitchens burning in the windows. She wondered for a moment how many of them would be attending the Once-Ler's party tonight, allowing herself just a second's span to feel like Cinderella on her way to the ball.

Blushing at the embarrassing sappiness of this thought, she bit her lip and once again laced her arm through the crook of Oncie's elbow, leaning comfortably into him as the two of the began to walk in the direction of the town square. His stride was brisk and bouncy as always, and she had to stumble along with her short legs to keep up with him, especially in the pair of heels that she was wearing. She wished that she could feel as casual and at ease with herself as he obviously did, but that was a difficult task to be accomplished when she felt the nervousness of having to confront him about his factory sitting like a lead weight in her stomach.

"Soooo, your dad. He seems nice," said the Once-Ler when the silence between the two of them had dragged too long to be comfortable. Glancing over at her, he offered her a tiny, amused grin, adding, "He kinda reminds me of you. Is that weird?"

Norma couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, no," she replied, shaking her head with a smile. "Everyone's always said that, ever since I was a little girl. I think he's much quieter than me, though. It surprised me how warm he was with you. He's not like that normally."

"Weeeeeell, it's probably just my Businessman Powers affecting his brain or something," said the Once-Ler, shrugging his shoulders with an easy chuckle and a plyful nudge to her ribcage. "Yeeeeeeeuuupp, I just disarmed him, and he was too surprised by me to even act like his normal self," he tacked on jokingly, giving her a playful wink.

"Oh, _suuuuure_, tell yourself that," Norma replied with a smirk that quickly spread into a genuine smile. After a moment's pause, she brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, curiously tilting her head to the side as she observed, more softly, "I can't help but think you miiiiight actually be right, though. I mean, in a _way_. Technically, you _are_ a celebrity now, and . . . well, my family's never met anybody _famous _before. So I suppose they could've been a little starstruck."

"All except your sister, maybe." An awkward, slightly tense laugh followed this sentence.

"Oh, don't worry about her, Once-Ler," encouraged Norma, rolling her eyes at the mention of her younger sister's behavior earlier this evening. "She just enjoys being a nuisance sometimes. She didn't mean anything personal by what she said - she's just trying to get on my nerves. It's nothing to be upset over." Softening slightly, she reached up and patted him gently on the shoulder, offering him a small smile, "My whole family adores you. I can tell."

She could feel the tension in his shoulders slip gradually away as he gave her a relieved smile and answered on an exhale, "Really?" When she nodded quickly in affirmation, the worry left his eyes and he nodded in return, trying to appear more confident. "Well, hey, thanks. I can totally handle this, right?"

"Right! Absolutely," responded Norma, incredibly glad to hear him finally talking a bit more securely than earlier. Though she couldn't help but grin wickedly and joke, "But don't get _too _accustomed to me saying that, now. Or else you'll just start to expect it from me."

"Oh, riiiiiight, a compliment from you. I would _totally _expect _that_," said the Once-Ler with his typical tongue-in-cheek sarcasm. The two of them laughed lightly, and when the sound of their mingled chuckles began to seep away into the cool night air, his facial expression softened somewhat. Sighing, he added, more seriously this time, though still keeping his tone light and casual, "Seriously, though, you _do _know you've been, like, the most support I've ever had this entire time, right? I-I mean I . . . _really _don't see how I could've done it without you."

Her cheeks burning red, Norma looked down at her feet, trying not to let him see how flustered this compliment had made her. "You always say that," she answered in a small voice, her words wavering slightly. When she finally gained the courage to glance back up into his eyes again, she gave him a tiny smile, eyes wide and bright as she said, "Sometimes I wonder if you're just trying to butter me up."

"I miiiiight be," he said, laughing as he casually draped an arm over her shoulder, blissfully unaware of how even such a small action made her heart do somersaults. She reveled in the warmth of his closeness as he continued to talk, the sound of his jubilant tenor vibrating in his chest. "But let's be honest, Norma, has that ever really gotten me anywhere before?"

"Of course not," she giggled, looping her arm around his waist in order to be closer to him as they strode closer to the Town Square. She could see the lights coming from the party in the distance as she said, "Oh. It looks like the party's started without you. We're not late, are we?" She glanced up at him, eyebrows knitted with confusion.

Blinking in surprise, the Once-Ler looked up ahead at the square, where, sure enough, a crowd of people had already begun to gather. There was a loud chatter that was audible even from the distance that they stood away from the hubbub, along with the sound of the jazz band that his mother had hired for the occasion playing a song heavy in trumpet. As they drew closer, Norma could see that everyone was dressed immaculately in neatly-pressed suits or elaborate cocktail dresses, the flash of cameras blinking like fireworks in the night sky. Norma glanced down at her own dress, which was considerably simpler than the ones she saw, and blushed, immediately feeling as though she had shown up to the Academy Awards wearing nothing but a pillowcase.

She was pulled out of her own embarrassed thoughts by the Once-Ler's voice. "Weeeeeell, I didn't _think _we were late, but . . . everyone's here." He let out a nervous laugh, a smile spreading onto his face, though it was clearly only there to serve the purpose of covering up his anxiety. "Looks like I've got some major mingling to do," he added, raking his fingers through his bangs, as he always did when he was stressed.

Sensing the tension beginning to spread through him again, Norma eyed him carefully, reaching up to place one hand on his shoulder (which was slim for a man's, she noticed). "Hey," she said calmly, the sound of her voice pulling his eyes away from the party so that he could look at her instead. "Oncie, I know work has left you totally _exhausted_ lately and you must be really stressed out right now, but look at me, okay? It's alright. You can do this. The only thing you have to do is be yourself. It's as easy as that."

He let out a soft, humorless laugh, and for the first time Norma noticed a sort of helplessness in his eyes that worried her most of all, even more than the trouble surrounding his factory. No matter what she said, it was clear that he still felt that he was in his boat alone, without anyone to understand or relate to him. Maybe a party would be _good _for him tonight, just to have a chance to relax and not have to worry about work. Mybe she could convince him somehow to _not _think of tonight as a business endeavor, but just as a chance to befriend some other people and just enjoy some time off from factory plans and whatever else kept him busy in his office.

It almost seemed unfair now that Norma had to talk to him about the factory tonight. For a moment or two, she considered just waiting for another time, then realized that she had been putting it off for far too long. For the first time, she was frightened of the power she had over him. The Once-Ler was her best friend, and was clearly devoted to her; if she reminded him of his fault, would he even be willing to stand up for himself? Or would it just leave him heartbroken?

"Thanks, Norma," he said at last, massaging his temples briefly before mustering up the energy to give her a small, grateful smile. "Maybe one of these days I'll be able to handle work-related stuff without, y'know . . . having a panic attack." He chuckled again, this time a bit more hopefully than before as he turned back to look at the party unfolding before him. "Weeeeeeeelp, here I go. Time to get my party on."

The two of them strode into the Town Square, immediately greeted by a barrage of cameras and reporters, all of them eager to get a word from the Once-Ler, who, after looking stunned by all the attention for a moment, quickly slipped into the interviews with an uncharacteristic ease. If there was one thing that Norma had noticed about his new career, it was that the more he seemed to crumble and break in his personal life, the happier and more comfortable he seemed to appear in public and in front of the paparazzi. While she was certainly happy to see him actually enjoying _some _part of what his success had brought him, she had to wonder if any part of him missed being who he used to be - even if the only thing he wanted back from the old days was a good night's sleep.

"Oncieeeee! Oh, _there_ you are, my sweet, sweet, suddenly _rich _little boy!"

Norma cringed - she would know that voice _anywhere_. Sure enough, when both of them turned in the direction that the voice had come from, they saw that it belonged to none other than Susie Onceler, who was looking particularly ostentatious tonight in a salmon pink cocktail dress that sparkled with sequins. Her blonde hair was stacked on the top of her head in a beehive, held in place by an amount of hairspray so massive that Norma could smell it tingling in her nostrils. The older woman pranced forward, steeling her arms around her son in an awkward hug.

"Oh, hey, Mom," he choked as she yanked him down to her height, patting her back a little stiffly. "The place looks great! I hardly recognize it!" He drew himself out of the hug fairly quickly, straightening his lapels and looking generally uncomfortable.

"Doesn't it?!" squealed Susie, clapping her hands together, eyes brightening greedily. "Oooh, I've never seen so many people in all my life!" She glanced around, giggling, then turned back to the Once-Ler, lifting her eyebrows irritably. "Well? What're y'all doin', just standin' around here? Git on and talk to people! Ya ain't never gonna get all these dang businessmen interested if ya don't mingle a little!" All but shoving him in the direction of the crowd expanding out in front of them, she added quickly, "And don't forget to mention _me_, too!"

"Uh . . . b-but I'm not sure if - whoa, hoooookay!" he yelped in surprise as his mother gave him another nudge forward. Glancing over his shoulder, he gesticulated wildly with his thumb towards his friend as he added quickly, "What about Norma? She came here with me, I can't just ditch her."

A very false smile spread itself across Susie's features as she held eye contact with her son, forcibly looping her arm through Norma's in what was supposed to look like a friendly gesture. Norma, doing her best not to appear visibly as uncomfortable as she felt, gave Oncie a sheepish smile, trying not to laugh at the thoroughly bemused look on his face.

"Naw, don't worry about her, honey! I'm sure _Norma_ - " she threw a glance in Norma's direction, her eyes glinting like razors behind the outward kindness she tried to portray, " - will be juuuust fine. I'll take her off your hands and show her around, alright, Oncie? That way y'all won't get distracted when you're tryin' to take care of business thangs!"

He considered this for a moment, glancing between the two women alternatively. "Aaah . . . ahaha . . . um, hey, Norma." He rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly, clearing his throat as he stuttered, "You'll be okay hanging out with Mom for a couple hours, right? I-I mean, it might not even be _that_ long, I just need to take care of some stuff."

Trying to ignore the sinking disappointment in her chest, Norma put a smile on her face. "Of course I'll be fine, Once-Ler!" she assured him, nodding once. "I'll save you a dance, okay?"

"Oh. O-okay," he replied, grinning boyishly, his face ablaze with a pink color, eyes wide and hopeful. "That sounds great." At another impatient look from his mother, he laughed again, giving Norma one last wave. "Okay, well, uh, I gotta go! I'll catch you later! Um, don't have too much fun without me!"

And, without another word, her friend disappeared into the crowd, a bright spot of towering green in the midst of all the black suits.

* * *

Three or four hours later, Norma was finally able to tear herself away from another boring conversation with Susie Onceler and some snobby fashion designers that had spent a good thirty minutes complimenting the Once-Ler's mother's style of dress for the night. Every second had seemed to drag since she had been forcibly removed from her best friend's presence, and now she had had enough. He had promised her that he wouldn't be long, and that he would come back and look for her, but she was beginning to think he had forgotten all about her. She hadn't seen even a glimpse of the green-suited gentleman since leaving with Susie hours earlier, and now she wanted him back.

_Enough putting this off, Norma, _she coached herself as she strode through the crowd, her eyes scanning the area for any sign of Oncie. _You need to talk to him about this factory, _now_, no excuses. _

She probably would've decided to wait at least one more day on the factory conversation, if she hadn't overheard Susie talking to one of the Once-Ler's lawyers about planners to make his factory and their company as a whole "bigger" than before. The blonde woman had discussed plans of a merger project, a large factory expansion that, over the course of two or three years max, would turn practically the entire valley into working grounds for Thneed Incorporated. This, she thought, was exactly the type of trouble that the Lorax had mentioned. And it was inexcusable. She couldn't keep brushing this under the rug, especially since he was her best friend and more important to her than the environment was protecting him. Of course, the forest and the well-being of the animals who lived there was drastically important, as well, but the fact that Oncie himself was the cause of it made it that much more essential for her to do something about it.

At last, Norma spotted him, surrounded by a group of haevy-set men who looked to be at least ten, maybe twenty years his senior. His posture was very relaxed in comparison with the tension she had seen in him before they had parted ways. He had his back turned to her at the moment, and was waving his gloved hands animatedly as he spoke, the group around him looking particularly enthused with what he had to say. All the older men were holding massive glasses filled nearly to the brim with obscurely-colored mixed drinks, and Norma couldn't help but be mildly surprised when she saw Oncie holding one, as well (though his glass was much smaller than the others). He had never been much of a drinker before.

"Oncie?" she called as she strode up to him, her heels clicking with each brisk, purposeful step. "Hey, there you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

He turned around at the sound of her voice, eyebrows raised. When he spotted her, his face instantly brightened, his red cheeks darkening even further. Even the tip of his nose was slightly pink. He waved, bursting with energy as she neared his side, the smell of alcohol heavy among the group of rotund gentlemen.

"Hey," he greeted, his eyes immediately meeting hers. (Norma allowed herself to be vain for just a moment, flattered by the fact that all his attention went from all these businessmen to just focusing on her in a matter of seconds.) "You like the party? Sorry I couldn't make it back to you, I, uhh . . . got caught up." He turned back to the men for a moment, and all of them shared a loud laugh, as if they were enjoying some private joke. He looked back at her, then gently steered her away from all the men, both of them walking off in the opposite direction. (Norma couldn't help but observe that he wobbled slightly as he walked.) "Sooooo, how'd you enjoy hanging out with Mom?"

"Do I even need to _answer_ that?" she laughed, giving him a playful shove that, in his slightly-inebriated state, sent him stumbling sideways much farther than it normally would have. "You didn't tell me you were leaving me to suffer through such torture! I don't think a single person here tonight has been very polite to me."

When he had finally righted himself, he straightened his tie a little clumsily and chuckled in return. "Yeeeaaah, sorry about that," he said, offering her a sheepish grin. "I tried to make it quick, but those guys can't get enough of my plumber jokes! I was in the middle of tellin' one when you caught up to me. It went like this, okay. So, there's a plumber, a giraffe, and a blonde and they all walk into a bar - "

"Once-Ler, can I talk to you? Alone?" she blurted, interrupting his loud prattling. "It'll just take a minute."

He stopped talking, surprised for a moment, his index finger still held in the air from when he had been gesturing for emphasis while speaking. Clearing his throat, he lowered his hand and raised his eyebrows, sensing her serious tone of voice. Nodding quickly, he said, stumbling over his words a bit, "Oh, uh, sure! Yeah, sure! That'd be great, 'cause we haven't talked, like, at . . . at all. Tonight. So, yeah! Um, but there's nowhere to really be alone."

Norma glanced around, surveying the area. He was right about that much, at least. The Town Square was absolutely packed with people, all of whom would be highly offended if they overheard the conversation about Once-Ler's factory that was about to take place. If one of his possible business partners happened to hear all the bad things that were happening or were going to happen because of Oncie's business, they might come to his _defense_. She didn't want different opinions to yank the poor boy around in different directions. She wanted to keep the conversation as civil and polite as possible. She clicked her tongue as she looked around, quickly growing impatient.

Finally, she spotted a building close by, though it was far enough away to distance itself from the party. The back of the building was currently deserted, and no one who was currently attending the party would be able to see them over there. It would be a good place to sneak away, just for a minute or two. She pointed this place out to the Once-Ler, and the two of them snuck quickly away from the party, careful to keep out of the line of his mother's sight. The two of them reached the building, both of them partially hidden in the shadows, Once-Ler taking a deep breath and leaning against the wall, relaxing.

"It feels so good to be able to breathe," he muttered, taking another quick sip of his drink before setting it down on a nearby crate. "It was waaaaay too crowded over there." He looked back over his shoulder quickly before focusing on her, offering her a small smile. "So, uh, what didja wanna talk about?"

Blushing, staring up into his eyes, at how completely _vulnerable _he could be with her, she lost her nerve. Gulping, she stammered, "L-look, Once-Ler, we need to talk. I . . . I've had lots of things on my mind lately, and I really need to discuss this. It's important. Your factory - "

"You've had things on your mind? Me too! I-I really wanna talk to you about something, too. I was gonna wait, but this is kinda _super_ important and I figure now's as good a time as any - "

"No! Listen, Oncie!" she cried, exasperated. Steeling herself, she began quickly, "The Lorax and I have been talking, and we really think - "

"I love you, Norma."

There was an awful silence that seemed to stretch an eternity between them. The air grew thin and tense.

"I . . . _what_?" breathed Norma, feeling as if someone had just punched her hard enough in the gut to knock all the wind out of her.

The Once-Ler swallowed hard, his eyes very bright and very blue, even in the dark. He drew a shaky, audible breath, and it seemed to take forever for him to find the right words. When he at last mustered up the energy, he said slowly, "I-I said that I love you. I . . . I'm _in _love with you." He paused, then eyed her carefully, adding in a very tiny, scared voice, "Norma? Hey, say something. Please."

Norma's thoughts were whirling, her hands trembling uncontrollably. He _loved _her? How long had she been waiting, yearning for him to say that to her, and at last he finally _had_! She'd dreamt of this moment, longed for it more than anything. Yet, it didn't feel _anything _like she'd imagined it would. In all her daydreams, she had smiled, immediately announced that she loved him, too, and flung herself into his arms, and the two of them had lived happily ever after. Now that she heard him say it for _real_, she suddenly felt very overwhelmed, dubious, and even a little afraid. It was a difficult spoonful to swallow, to say the very least.

Shaking her head quickly, she looked up at him, her brown eyes wide, and insisted, "N-No, Once-Ler. No, you don't. You've been drinking, you're staggering all over the place, you don't know what you're saying."

"Th-that's not true!" he cried indignantly, though this statement would have been much more effective had he not swayed slightly on his feet as he spoke. Steadying himself, he added, "Yeah, okay, I've had, like . . . _one _. . . _two _drinks. But that's only 'cause I was really nervous and all those other guys were doin' it and I didn't wanna look stupid. A-and I know I've been super stressed out lately and I've been acting kinda crazy, but I _know _what I'm _saying_. I _do._ I love you." For emphasis, he placed his hands on her shoulders, drawing her close to him. "Don'tcha know I've been wanting to say that to you ever since I met you?"

Stiffening, willing herself not to melt under his touch, she licked her dry lips and gained the courage to look into his eyes, her cheeks burning. "You love me," she repeated faintly, barely able to speak for the lump in her throat. "I . . . I-I just . . . oh, God. I just don't know what to do because, Once-Ler, I think I'm in love with you, too, and . . . and what if that ruins everything?"

He paused, his eyes widening as if he had just realized the magnitude of what he had just confessed. She watched the realization slowly spread across his features in the silence, waiting with bated breath for him to speak again. She needed him to say something, anything, that would provide her with comfort and let her know that everything between the two of them would be okay.

Thus, she was taken by incredible surprise when, instead of speaking up again, the Once-Ler ducked down and, still holding on lightly to her shoulders, pressed his lips to hers. Norma squeaked softly with shock, her posture going rigid, eyes enlarging. His lips moved gently against hers, though her jaw remained tightly, tensely clenched. After a few seconds, however, she allowed her shoulders to relax, throwing her arms around his neck and returning the kiss, closing her eyes tightly. His hands clumsily moved from her shoulders to her waist, pulling her so close to him that she could feel his warmth and the skipping of his heartbeat. Encouraged by the soft noise the Once-Ler made in the back of his throat, she gave him her bottom lip, her tongue grazing his front teeth.

Finally drawing back for air, Norma shivered, burying her face in his shoulder, still clutching tightly onto him. "Once-Ler," she murmured, stroking the nape of his neck gently, feeling him shaking like a leaf as he cradled her against his body. "Don't let go of me, okay?" She fell silent, keeping her eyes tightly shut, listening to the soft sound of him breathing.

After a long while, he finally nodded and broke the silence, his voice a low mumble. "'Kay," he replied, stroking her spine softly. "B-but don't forget, I still owe you that dance."

Oh, no, she wouldn't forget that. Especially not now.


	16. Chapter Sixteen: I'll Stay With You

"Mr. Onceler, you have a visitor."

There was a beat of silence. Then a bored sigh, accompanied by the rustling of paperwork as the green-suited businessman sifted through his cluttered desk for his copy of the day's schedule. At last, he retrieved the paper he was looking for and, with a flourish, held it up to the light, narrowing his eyes and examining it closely.

"Uhhh, that's kinda weird, 'cause I don't have anyone scheduled today for an interview or anything . . . " his voice trailed off, and he tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. After a pause, he added, "Who is it? I'm busy, I reeeeally can't be bothered right now. Don't they know they can't just randomly pop up in my office whenever they want? I've got things to do."

There was a shuffling sound as the Once-Ler's secretary, Miss Gertrude Funce-ler, questioned the mysterious visitor to the Thneed Inc. factory. Several seconds ticked by noisily on the extravagent grandfather clock pushed against the nearby wall. He was just beginning to get irritated with his secretary's slow response when the intercom clicked back into use again. The tension visibly slipped from his shoulders and he arched his eyebrows, listening closely.

"It's a Miss Norma Harlow here for you, sir. She says she can come back later if you're too busy right now. Shall I give her a message for you?"

Immediately, Once-Ler leaned forward in his desk, his facial expression changing within the span of a second. Rather than impassive and blase, he was now alight with a boundless energy, his blue eyes widening with glee. If _Norma _was the one visiting him, then that changed _everything_! He normally saved his reserved, somewhat standoffish attitude for when his lawyers or P.R. people or other random businessmen would venture to his office driven by motives of varying degrees of greed.

His _girlfriend _was a very different story.

"No, no, that's totally fine! Send her up!" he responded quickly, already able to feel his face flooding with a dark red color. The smile on his face broadened with anticipation, and he had to bite his lower lip to hold back a completely giddy laugh.

"B-but . . . sir, I thought you said you were busy - and she doesn't have an appointment _or _a visitor's pass - think what your mother will say - " stuttered Miss Funceler (who happened to be just as scared of the wrath of Susie as the Once-Ler was, despite the fact that his mom really had little power when it came to whether or not his secretary would keep her job).

"Send her _up_," insisted the Once-Ler, drumming his fingers restlessly, trying not to get too impatient with his secretary, despite his own eagerness. "I'm not paying you to dawdle!" Normally, this comment would have come across as mocking or scathing, but Oncie by this point was so excited that Norma had decided to pay him a visit that everything he said was coming out with laughter and maddening energy, making his tone much cheerier.

The Once-Ler sighed blissfully, slumping back in his ornate, high-backed, red velvet armchair. Six whole months and it still took him by surprise sometimes when he thought about it. Norma was his _girlfriend _now. A year ago, when he had been just a little nobody, hunched over his work in that tiny, modest cottage, knitting thneeds and desperately trying to make a name for himself, he might not have even thought it possible. Back then, it had seemed impossible to him that someone - especially someone as wonderful as Norma - would even be _interested _in him. Even now, after approximately six months to this day and a series of successful dates, it still made his heart race and his head spin to just attempt to imagine something like that.

But no, it _was_ possible. And he had known it the very moment he had woken up the day after that party all those months ago. So, that morning, he had practically sprinted all the way to Norma's house, rung her doorbell like a madmen, and upon her answering it, had immediately declared that he wanted to be with her. (Needless to say, the rest of Norma's family hadn't been too thrilled with the racket that he had raised, banging incessantly on their front door and ringing the doorbell over and over again. Jean, who had been woken up by the noise, had in her half-asleep state of mind stood at the foot of the stairs and called him such a nasty word that Norma said it had gotten her younger sister grounded for two whole weeks.) Norma's reaction had been fairly similar to her reactions to his outlandish, daring personality on normal days: at first, she had been (understandably) flustered and taken aback, but once she had gotten her bearings, she had tearfully nodded her head and accepted.

And, well, the rest was history.

The success and popularity of his factory had greatly improved over the course of the past six months, as well. Following the party that had been thrown in honor of his company, the word had really gotten out about thneeds. Sales had skyrocketed, and within the span of at least two or three months, they had manged to hire hundreds of new workers for the factory. They were a business that was constantly moving forward, especially since the Once-Ler was never one to be quite completely content with any one product design. He held sales pitch after sales pitch regularly, always coming up with new ideas or themes or marketing techniques in order to better the sales numbers of his magnum opus. During the six months that had passed, the factory had undergone one large expansion, to accomodate the new fabric-dye machines that they needed in order to make thneeds in different colors than just the standard-issue pink.

Of course, with all these changes, not _all _of the results had been beneficial. The factory was still experiencing problems when it came to controlling the smog emissions, and these difficulties had only worsened with the recent expansion speeding along production. The dye machines were faulty, as well, creating an abundance of schlopedy schlop and glupity glup for which they had no means of disposal. The solution at the moment was to just allow the runoff to take its place in the river and keep fingers crossed, hoping that it didn't get worse.

(The Once-Ler promised up and down whenever the newspapers or Norma and the Lorax asked him about it that this was only a _temporary_ fix to the problem and that he was trying his best to come up with a more permanent solution. But in all honesty, he hadn't had much time to think over it. Business had been keeping him busy; he barely had time to go home and sleep in his own bed at night before returning to work again first thing the next morning, much less waste his work hours with a problem that certainly wasn't his top priority at the moment.)

Norma, naturally, didn't take very well to _any_ of this, and had no problem telling her boyfriend exactly how it made her feel. She had seemed reticent when this all first began to express her feelings, but with his company becoming bigger and more _important _to the public, she had dropped all her inhibitions and imediately gotten on his case about it. She could be as pestering as the Lorax on occassion, if she felt up to the task. This was part of the reason why he was so surprised and overjoyed to learn that she had paid his office a visit today; she normally wouldn't have anything to do with his factory, and detested having to walk through the path of Truffula tree stumps and cloudy gray skies just to get there.

"It's not that I'm trying to make you feel like you're some monster," she would always say whenever the subject came up, even in polite conversation, "I just want to make sure that you're always taken care of and _safe_."

And so, as a couple with their respective differences, this was one of the subjects that they just agreed to disagree upon. (This was a huge step for their relationship, especially since the only thing other than his line of work that they had disagreed about in the past was whether or not Each of them knew and understood how stubborn their partner could be; after all, Norma was just as headstrong as the Once-Ler was completely oblivious and caught up in himself. There would be no point in arguing on either side, because the opposite party wouldn't listen. The two of them loved each other, anyway, and tried their best not to let their differing standpoints get in the way of things. They had been best friends before the factory had been built, and that had continued for this long; why not let a relationship be the same way?

The sound of a light, quick knock at his office door pulled him out of his pleasant reverie. The Once-ler looked up excitedly, all but bouncing up from his seat as he raced for the door. Pulling the red double-doors wide open, the grin on his face widened when he saw who was standing on the other side of the entryway. Sure enough, it was Norma Harlow, looking red-faced and a little disheveled from the long walk down to his factory from her house. Her hair was particularly frizzy today due to the humidity in the air, beads of sweat beginning on her forehead. Still, she gave him a bright smile, the bridge of her nose crinkling lightly.

"Hey," he greeted, blushing shyly, leaning down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek before moving aside to let her enter his office. "What're you doing here? I-I mean, not that I'm not _totally_ glad to see you, 'cause believe me, I really am, it's just that you don't really come down here a lot." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, watching her as she pranced into the room, shutting the door carefully behind her. He noticed for the first time that she held two white paper bags, stained with grease at the bottoms.

"Oh, I just thought I'd pay my boyfriend a visit while he was working, that's all. I thought you could use some company," she said daintily, hopping onto his desk, crossing her legs at the ankles. She set the paper bags down beside her and waved him over. As he crossed back to his desk, perching himself in his chair, she tossed him one of the bags and added, "I brought you some lunch. From that new fast-food place that just opened across from the factory, ThneedBurger. I figured since your company endorses them, we oughta give their food a whirl and see if it's any good."

Letting out a contented sigh, he answered quickly, "Oh, _nice_! Yoooouuu are a saint and a scholar, darlin'. You seriously wouldn't _believe_ how much I need something to eat right now."

Her cheeks glowed when he called her "darlin'" (he knew that no matter how much Norma insisted nicknames were silly and sappy, she still couldn't get enough of it), and she nibbled on a French fry pulled from her own paper bag. "Weeeeeell, I know it's not exactly a culinary masterpiece, but I figured you might be a little hungry. I hope that'll hold you over until you can head home after work."

The Once-Ler's stomach growled loudly, and he clapped his hands eagerly, snatching the bag and digging through it to examine its contents. The truth was, he was v_ery_ hungry, having worked through his lunch break today. He had been extremely busy trying to reach the deadline on some new blueprints that he was supposed to hand in this evening, and hadn't even had time to go buy a soda or some crackers from the snack machines in the break room. The paper rattled as he fished out some extra napkins that had been placed in that bag, along with a large, greasy cheeseburger wrapped in crumpled wax-paper. Unwrapping the burger, he leaned in and took a large bite, grimacing at the taste. He could practically _taste_ how fake and unhealthy the meat was, and the tomatoes squeaked against his teeth when he chewed.

Norma, who had since finished the fish sandwich that she had bought from the fast-food restaurant for herself, glanced over at Oncie as he ate, raising her eyebrows expectantly. "Well?" she asked when he had swallowed. "How is it?"

He paused a moment, then shuddered, looking up at her with a broad grin as he laughed and said, "It's the most horrible thing I've ever tasted." Still, he took another bite, mumbling around a mouthful of food, "Thanks for going to get it, anyway. I'm so hungry I don't even _care _what it tastes like."

Norma giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. "Mine was really bad, too. They must be paying you guys a _lot _to sponsor them like this." She wrinkled her nose with thinly-disguised disgust, though her laughter ruined the effect of the expression.

The Once-Ler chuckled, as well, trying not to look too sloppy as he ate despite the fact that the burger was currently falling apart in his hands. It had been very messily prepared, with the ingriedients stacked untidily on top of each other, and the more he ate, the harder it became to hold the whole sandwich together.

"I hope so," he answered jokingly, wiping his mouth quickly with a bunched-up napkin. "This is the biggest meal I've seen all week, though, really. I've been spending so much time here, I hardly even get to go home. Sometimes I crash on the couch over there," he added, nodding over to the small red pullout couch pushed against the nearby wall.

(A fluffy yellow blanket was draped aross the cushions, still rumpled from where the Once-Ler had slept there last night. Pushed against the arm of the sofa was a flat white pillow; it didn't offer much support to his head during the night, but it was at least something. Sometimes it was easier for him to sleep when he was in his office, anyway, where he could be farther away from all the chopped-down trees and miserable animals and didn't have to be tortured by the sight of the tree stumps right outside his window. Paying visits to that humble little tent he had lived in during the early days of his career only made him more aware of the problems he so fervently denied.)

No matter how much he _tried _to get his mind off it and forget all the inner conflict he suffered about the trees, he found it was impossible. It would be like forgetting a giant hole in the middle of your house that you had to step around to get into the kitchen.

Truth be told, he didn't even remember having any sort of discussion where they had ultimately decided to sponsor some fast-food restaurant. He was just so swamped with other work-related things these days that he was running himself into the dirt with exhaustion; all of his meetings and paperwork and negotiations seemed to mesh together in his mind. This was made especially true when one considered how much Oncie had always hated meetings in general, and even back when his business had been a casual success, he had never been very good at staying still and concentrating on the droning voices of his lawyers and associates for long amounts of time.

His office had, in a way, become his home-away-from-home over the course of his rise to fame. Lately, this had become so true that he even had to keep a spare set of disposable razors and shaving cream in the tiny restroom adjacent to his workroom. He went home in short bursts, long enough to shower and get a change of clothes when needed, sometimes long enough to scarf down breakfast or a small dinner. He hadn't slept in his own bed in over a month.

Once he finished his lunch, he wiped the grease and salt from his fingers with the napkin, wrinkling his nose distastefully. He glanced up at Norma, his eyes widening thoughtfully as he drank in the worried expression on her face. Her eyes were large behind her eyeglasses, her mouth set in a thin, tense line. Reflexively, she bit her lower lip, then sighed so heavily that it moved her shoulders. A little taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor, he blinked and lifted his eyebrows with surprise, giving his head a bemused little shake.

"What's wrong?" he asked, tossing the trash left over from his lunch into a nearby wastebin. "The food wasn't that bad, was it?" he added in a feeble attempt to lighten the mood, his awkward laughter dying off quickly.

Norma couldn't help but smile softly in return, giving him a quiet, appreciative laugh. She glanced down at her lap for a moment before looking back up at him, reaching over to gently brush his bangs from his eyes.

"I just worry about you cooped up here in this office all the time, that's all," she said at last. "Sometimes I think you work yourself too hard. I _know _you, Once-Ler. And I know you're exhausted. Maybe your fans or your mother or everybody else can't see it, but I do. Pushing yourself like this just isn't _healthy_."

The Once-Ler sighed, unable to help his slight exasperation, taking off his silk top hat and placing it on his desk, scratching his scalp thoughtfully. "Norma . . . " he began warningly, knowing that every time their conversations began with this tone, an argument was soon to follow.

"Look, I know how much you hate people telling you what to do, especially when it comes to your work, so I'm not going to pressure you. You've gotten enough of that lately, anyway," said Norma, holding out her hands complacently. "I just think that maybe you need to go home and sleep tonight, in your own bed, instead of on that couch. That's a fair statement, right? I mean, that sofa is just so _tiny_. Isn't it uncomfortable at all?"

"Uhm, weeeeeell . . . " he considered this for a moment, glancing over to the tiny sofa and stifling a yawn. To be honest, sleeping there all bunched-up like that, with his long legs dangling awkwardly off the end of the couch, really _did _cause quite a bit of discomfort. And from the look on Norma's face, he assumed she already knew that she was right. "Yeah, okay, it _kinda _does. But, hey, it's better than nothing at all, right? A little coffee in the morning, a couple naps during the day, and I'm good to go."

The Once-Ler waved his hand quickly, as if he were shooing away the entire argument. He truly couldn't stand it when he and his girlfriend got into these little tiffs (even if she never outright expressed her frustration with him, he knew that she was the type to get easily annoyed with his protests). So while Norma was always determined to get to the bottom of every situation, he was alternatively trying to firefight and get rid of all the conflict between them, wanting instead to just forget and move on. It was a difficult dynamic at times, because it followed them into their romantic relationship, even when they were being happy and having normal conversations with one another. Usually, it just inspired their typical quick-witted banter (something that they hadn't lost one bit of since beginning a relationship with each other), but sometimes lighthearted discussions would quickly spiral downhill because of it.

Norma, too, seemed to be fighting the situation, backpedaling visibly in her facial expression. As both of them sat in silence for a few seconds, trying to figure out how to steer the otherwise-pleasant conversation away from another spat, she cleared her throat and hopped off the desk, walking quickly over to his side. She sat down on the arm of his chair, reaching over to gently grab his shoulders, rubbing the tense muscles. She allowed her fingers to trace along the nape of his neck, leaning in to press a quick, playful kiss there before resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Where does your back hurt?" she asked. "I'll rub it for you. Your muscles are all knotted up." Giggling, she gave the crook of his shoulder a quick tickle, adding lightly, "Your posture is really quite awful, Once-Ler."

He laughed in return, settling into the chair as her fingers worked between his shoulder blades. "I'm sore pretty much all over," he said with a shrug. "Probably 'cause I stay kinda hunched over my desk all day." As Norma found a place along the length of his spine that popped accordingly, he gave a soft gasp of relief, sighing, "Oh, man, I love you _so _much right now."

"Well, in that case, you'll have to remember how much you love me right now next time you want to get all huffy with me over the phone," she replied jokingly, kissing his cheek and wrinkling her nose playfully, feeling the faint scratch of stubble against her face. "You need to shave," she tacked on absentmindedly, playing with the strands of his hair that grew close to his ears.

"Hey," he responded with a chuckle, "I'll have you know that the only reason I was so grumpy that one time is 'cause I stubbed my toe walking upstairs to my office that morning. So there!" He nodded his head securely, his lower lip jutting out in a playfully childish expression. At her second statement, the look on his face softened and he gave her an easy smile. "Yeah, I know. I was gonna try and slip away for a couple minutes to take care of it this morning, but I realized I've got this _crazy_ deadline to meet and thought I could put it off 'till at least lunchtime or after." He reached up to absently scratch his cheek, grimacing as he mumbled, "I feel like the Mountain Man or something."

Norma, giving a light, trilling laugh, moved her hands to the small of his back, working her fingers in tiny circles to relieve the tension there. "Okay, Mountain Man, well . . . maybe you should go _home _to sleep tonight. It's amazing what wonders an actual _bed_ can do for you." Biting the tip of her tongue gently, she moved her fingers a little more vigorously against his back, feeling him relax comfortably beneath her touch.

"Maybe, if I can sneak away from all this work for long enough," he conceded, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He sighed softly, then, as he sifted through a particularly grueling stack of papers, added, "Hey, you should come over, too! Not for the whole night or anything, just to hang out like we used to. Just the two of us. What do you say?" He turned his gaze eagerly upon her, his stomach tightening hopefully.

Norma's expression turned from playful to thoughtful in an instant, a warm smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She reached out, smoothing back his bangs and gently running her fingers through his thick, dark hair, scratching his scalp lovingly. The Once-Ler looked up at her, blue eyes bright, a goofy grin set upon his features; he had always had a sort of predilection for having his hair played with, and it was especially soothing today, when he had so much paperwork in front of him.

"I'd love to," she replied, leaning down and kissing his forehead lightly. "You've just gotta promise me that after I leave, you'll try to get some sleep. Deal?" She gave him a quick wink, her smile genuine, but Oncie knew her well enough to understand that she was actually quite worried for him behind all her gentleness. "As your girlfriend, I just can't keep letting you drive yourself crazy like this. I'm sorry, but it doesn't work that way." She leaned down again, this time pressing her lips to the tip of his nose.

He stared back at her for a moment, feeling a pang in his chest as he carefully studied the concern bright in her eyes. She was trying to downplay her worries for his sake, he knew; he could tell by her body language that she was just dying to tell him how she truly felt, but was merely holding back. She was waiting, he realized, to be told by him that everything was going to be alright. The Once-Ler, not knowing what to do now that he'd been given such a responsibility by someone like Norma, couldn't think of anything to say to comfort her. He knew that she was depending on him and looking to be reassured, but he certainly couldn't deny that his work was beginning to wear on him. (He supposed that he ought not mention that even when he tried to get to sleep, his self-doubt and bouts of guilt surrounding the expansion of his factory kept him awake. That might be a good detail to leave out.)

Finally, he made a soft noise of defeat, closing his eyes and sighing briefly before opening the again, giving her a weary smile. "Okaaaay, okay. You win." Stifling a yawn, he gave a soft chuckle, looping his arm around her waist and pulling her close to him. "I'll get some sleep. I promise." He pressed a quick kiss against her cheek, then nipped playfully at her earlobe, murmuring jokingly, "You know, I'm starting to get _reeeeaally_ annoyed with how you're always right. Or maybe it's just that I'm a total pushover."

Norma laughed, hands resting gently on his chest, the faint stutter of his heartbeat dancing beneath her palm. "A little bit of both, I'd imagine," she responded, tossing back her hair and kissing him swiftly on the lips. They were so close that he could feel the heat of the blush on her cheeks. "But I like you just like you are now, so that's perfectly fine with me."

"I _love _you just like you are now," replied the Once-Ler as Norma leaned down to nuzzle and kiss against his neck, down to the hollow of his throat. His cheeks were ablaze with pink, as well, especially when he added, "You're smart, and . . . a-and sweet and really, _really _pretty, and . . . in case you haven't noticed, I'm kinda pretty much amazed by you."

"Once-Ler," Norma warned, though her tone was light and cheerful as usual, "you promised me when we started dating that you'd never do any of that cheesy romantic monologuing stuff." Punctuating her sentence with a kiss to the curve of his shoulder, just barely exposed beneath his high-collared white shirt, she added with a faint giggle, "Thank you anyway, though. I love you, too."

She kissed him again, full on the mouth this time, her eagerness taking him by surprise for a moment. He hadn't very much romantic experience, so the tiniest things never failed to make him a bit breathless, where they barely fazed Norma. It had been this way ever since beginning their romantic relationship; Norma always initiated, was never hesitant or self-conscious around him, and always seemed to feel so safe with him. It was one of the things he loved best about her, really.

The Once-Ler, while he certainly did feel safe and comfortable with Norma, found it much more difficult to shed his nervousness when it came to being affectionate with her. Having such an insecure personality only led to him being a little more reluctant when it came to this sort of thing; it wasn't that he didn't _want _to kiss her like this, he _did_, he just constantly put pressure on himself to make sure that he was doing everything the "right" way. Where to put his hands, how much tongue was _too_ much tongue, it was all tricky business, if you asked him.

Oncie returned her kiss with a newfound boldness as her hands moved from his chest to his face, her fingers gently caressing his cheekbones. He closed his eyes tightly, burying his fingers in her hair as his tongue arched against the roof of her mouth. This moment was just the two of them, alone for more than five minutes for the first time in months, where for once he was not distracted with her work and she did not need to get home early. He was determined to make the most of the time they _did _spend together, at the very least.

His heart leapt into his chest at the sound of his office door snapping wide open.

Immediately tearing his lips away from Norma's, he looked up in complete shock, a gasp dying in his throat. His eyes widened as he caught sight of none other than Susie Onceler herself standing in the doorway in a sort of power stance, hands firm on her bony hips, her facial expression withering and disdainful. He felt embarrassment rise to his cheeks in a steady, consistent burn, glancing first to Norma (who also looked mortified to be caught _making out_ by his mother), then to Susie. He stammered awkwardly for a few seconds, not entirely sure what to say. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, hoping that his mother would at least have a justification for so rudely barging in on the first moments of intimacy that had passed between himself and his girlfriend in months. As he juggled his words, Norma stumbled out of his lap and smoothed out her skirt, walking around sheepishly to stand on the other side of his desk.

"Uhhh . . . Mom!" he gave a visible cringe as his voice cracked unsteadily, clearing his throat and adjusting his tie. Ruffling through his papers, trying in vain to appear busy with work, he tacked on for effect, "What's going on? Everything okay? S-sorry, um . . . about that, I-I was just, uh . . . busy with some stuff, just now, uh, wh-when you came in - "

"Oh, would you _save_ it, Oncie? I could _not_ care less if you wanna fiddle around with yer little lady while y'all're s'posed ta be workin'. Not right now, at least - we'll discuss it later. Right now we've got us bigger fish to fry, babycakes." She sent a pointed glare in Norma's direction before turning her gaze back to her son. "We've had us a teeeeeeeny . . . _mishap _with one o'them tree-choppin' machines out in the Valley just now."

All thoughts of his own embarrassment now abandoned, the Once-Ler rose from his seat and hurried to meet his mother at the door. Norma trailed quickly behind him, grabbing his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. He looked over his shoulder, giving her a quick, reassuring smile before turning back to his mother, all business.

"What?" he asked, his tone of voice unintentionally sharp due to being so taken aback by the news. "Well, what happened? Just this morning everything was working fine! W-wasn't it?"

As the three of them headed down the hall to the stairwell, Susie replied breezily, "Oh, well, we're all pretty sure it ain't gonna be much of a problem. There's no need to worry about anything, Oncie. Everything's gonna be peachy!" She waved her hand artlessly, much to the Once-Ler's exasperation. Clearly, she knew more than she was letting on - and she also wasn't going to let her son know anything about it in advance, either. He was going to have to see for himself.

"I wonder what's going on," Norma muttered, looking up at Oncie worriedly as they all descended the winding staircase, the sound of Susie's heels clacking so loudly on the tile that Oncie had to ask Norma to repeat what she had just said.

When he managed to understand her, he bit his lower lip, giving a confused shrug of his shoulders, shaking his head. "Beats me," he replied, leaning close to Norma so that his mother would not be able to easily eavesdrop. "We've been running tests on the machinery itself all week and everything's been perfect. I really can't see it being a technical problem, y'know, so . . . I dunno, maybe Chet managed to get confused on the buttons and messed something up. It's happened before."

The group continued from the staircase down the long, narrow hallway, past the counter in the main lobby that displayed the number of thneeds sold, the numbers constantly flipping to represent their perpetually-skyrocketing sales. Miss Funce-ler clacked away at the computer as they passed her desk, only pausing to look up and stare quizzically after them, obviously looking to get in on all the office gossip, since she hadn't a clue what was going on. Susie and Norma both struggled to keep up with the Once-Ler as he headed for the door, his long legs carrying him much farther across the hall than the two shorter women's. He all but pushed open the front doors to the factory, his heart pounding with a sickening nervousness as he headed across the barren hillside,trying to figure out the source of all this commotion. Despite his curiosity, some part of him also didn't really know if he _wanted_ to find out what was going on. What if it was something that, in the long run, couldn't be fixed?

At last, they finally approached the bottom of the hill, where, sure enough, _something _seemed to be amiss. One of the tree-chopping machines that the Once-Ler had been especially proud of inventing, the Super Axe Hacker, was parked close to a nearby fallen Truffula tree, and surrounding it were the rest of the Once-Ler's family and the Lorax himself, looking particularly furious over a situation that Oncie couldn't yet comprehend. As they drew nearer, however, he caught on to what had happened, his heart squeezing with a grim understanding. The tree that had fallen was particularly massive, with a wider trunk than all the others, making it much heavier. And beneath that tree, struggling to wriggle loose, was a trapped Pipsqueak, his midsection pinned beneath the trunk, one of his legs bent at an odd angle.

Norma, who was once again at her boyfriend's side, instantly gave an audible gasp, gripping Oncie's upper arm tightly. "Oh, _look_!" she cried, aghast. "What on Earth happened? Is that - ? That's one of the barbaloots, isn't it, Once-Ler?"

Oncie nodded mutely, too appalled to know what to say. Gulping, he all but marched up to the machine, glancing quickly between a sheepish-looking Chet and the Lorax. His mind whirled as he attempted to assess the situation, unsure of exactly where he should stand. He winced as he saw the poor creature worm around beneath the tree trunk, squealing with desperation. Brett, Uncle Ubb, and Aunt Grizelda were already at work pushing the heavy tree away from the barbaloot, but even with this combined strength, it would not budge. This was obviously a tree that had been growing for a long time; the tufts were abundant with fruit, and the trunk was thick and tough.

Finally able to pull himself out of his daze long enough to think properly, he sank to his knees beside his uncle, shoving with all his might, gritting his teeth, hoping that the tree would roll away. Even the skinnier trees were impossibly heavy, and had been a bit of a struggle to lift and carry around everywhere. They were _nothing _compared to this. At last, though, Aunt Grizelda managed to shove the tree just enough for it to lift off the ground; huffing, securing his grip around the tree, the four of them pulled the tree away, allowing it to fall down again beside the Super Axe Hacker. Pipsqueak, collecting himself, drew a deep breath, though he still appeared to be in pain. When he tried to stand, he wobbled unsteadily, only to fall back down again with a whine, clutching his injured leg.

Norma scooped up Pipsqueak carefully into her arms, stroking him gently between the eyes. "Poor thing," she murmured, cradling him close to her body, very aware of his injury. "I-I think his leg must be broken."

The Once-Ler rose unsteadily to his feet once again, brushing the dirt off his knees and taking a shaky breath to collect himself. Once he had straightened his appearance, he glanced between everyone in the group alternatively, raising his eyebrows expectantly. After a long moment of silence passed between all of them, it became clear that he wasn't going to get a decent answer out of them the easy way. Sighing heavily with exasperation, rubbing his eyes slowly, he shook his head, suddenly hating how long and arduous this day was turning out to be.

"Okay, uhh . . . question. Anyone mind telling me what's going on here?" Looking up from his hand once again, he glanced first to Chet, who stared down at his feet, shuffling them awkwardly.

"Oh, I'll tell ya what's goin' on, alright!" said the Lorax, pushing his way past Aunt Grizelda's beefy frame to stand in front of Oncie. Placing his fuzzy hands on his hips, he sneered and, in his usual gruff tone of voice, he spat, "Your _pal _over there - " he nodded to Chet, " - tried choppin' down this tree when Pipsqueak was still climbin' on it, tryin' to get some fruit! So Pipsqueak fell and hurt his leg, and then he couldn't get away in time, the tree fell on 'im!"

The Once-Ler flinched with surprise, his stomach dropping. Looking over his shoulder at Norma as she held the barbaloot, he offered her a deeply apologetic look. She met his gaze, though his heartbeat quickened with nervousness at the unreadable expression on her face. He didn't find her usual sympathy in her brown eyes, though he had to admit, he was relieved that she didn't look to be outright _angry_, either. He took a breath, teetering for a moment between saying something to defend his brother and apologize to the Lorax or just remaining silent. After a few seconds of weighing his options, he realized that he didn't have anything that he _could _say that would possibly fix the situation. Not right away, at least.

"See, Oncie?" said Susie as she pranced up to her son's side, though her tone of voice sounded a little uneasy, as though she were merely trying to reassure _him_ that nothing was wrong. "I told y'all it wasn't anything to worry over! It's all taken care of, said 'n done. So that's that! Git along, now," she added hastily to the Lorax, waving her hands to shoo the Guardian of the Forest away.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, _whoa_! Hold on here! Nobody's goin' anywhere! We're gonna talk about this _now_, Once-Ler!" The Lorax answered, jabbing his index finger pointedly up at Oncie, who backed up a step with surprise. "Does this make a point for ya? Huh? This is _bad_. Isn't it obvious now how dangerous this factory stuff is, kid? And now that I've got your attention, how 'bout we talk about the Swammee Swans. Thanks to all of your smoggin', they can't sing anymore! I betcha ya didn't know _that_."

"W-wait, _what_?" replied the Once-Ler quickly, holding his hands up defensively at his chest. For a few seconds, he glanced around desperately, too windswept and made uneasy by this sudden commotion to even talk. When he finally found his voice again, he cleared his throat, squaring his shoulders as he added, "What do you mean? I thought . . . " His voice trailed off uneasily at the end of his sentence as he realized that he, as a matter of fact, _hadn't _heard any of the swans singing in a long while. He just hadn't really paid attention to that detail until now.

"I hadn't heard them singing in a long time, either," said Norma at last, her voice very faint and quaking with uncertainty. "I was beginning to wonder what had happened to them."

The Lorax looked over at Norma, his entire facial expression weary and weighted with sadness. "Why don't you ask your little _boyfriend _about all that?" he told her. The statement was bitingly contemptuous, but the anger had since left the creature's voice, replaced by an exhaustion that the Once-Ler hadn't seen in him before. "Maybe you'll be able to get through to 'im better than me."

"Excuse me," said Susie in her usual saccharine, overly-sweet voice, batting her eyelashes with a very false smile. "But I don't think there's anything left to talk _about_. Everything is just _fine_. And 'sides, I don't seem to recall my sweet, darlin' little boy askin' _anyone's _opinion 'bout his factory. Riiiiight?" She turned to Oncie next, smoothing back his bangs in what was clearly supposed to be a maternal gesture, though it felt to him like it was mostly for show.

Encouraged by his mother's stance on things, the Once-Ler finally brought himself to give the Lorax a stern nod. After all, it was so rare that Susie Onceler agreed with him on _anything_ that he _needed _to take advantage of the situation. If _she _thought that he was right, then he really _must _be! She never failed before to tell him exactly what she thought of his other ideas; she'd never shown any hesitation to call him stupid or deluded. So now that she was actually on his side, and it seemed for the first time that he'd actually _succeeeded _in catching her attention, well maybe he really _was_ doing the right thing!

"Uh . . . y-yeah! Yeah, that's right!" he conceded, nodding his head once again. Gaining a little more confidence in himself, he took one step forward, saying, "Look, buddy, I don't know what your problem is, but how is it _my_ fault that the tree fell on Pipsqueak? Yeah, I'm running things here, and I might've told Chet to chop down the trees around here, but look, it was just an _accident_. These things happen - "

"These things _wouldn't_ happen if you'd just _listen _- " interjected the Lorax, looking as though he was getting angry all over again.

" - but it's not my _fault_," continued Oncie, doing his best to talk overtop of the Lorax's words. "Okay, look, clearly I'm not gonna get through to you like this, so why don't you just go away? Okay? I mean, there's not even anything left to _talk_ about. And y'know what? I've got work to do. Soooooo . . . see you around, Mustache."

The Lorax shook his head, waving his hand as if he were the one dismissing the Once-Ler, rather than the other way around. "Fine," he said, "I'll go. But just remember, I speak for the trees. And right now I'm hearin' 'em loud and clear. And I'm not gonna stop tryin' to keep 'em safe." The Guardian of the Forest cast one last look at Norma, saying more softly, "You be careful, too, ya hear me? Before ya know it, _you _might end up on the wrong side, too."

Norma, not saying another word, carefully placed Pipsqueak in the Lorax's arms. He gave her a somber stare, then slowly turned to leave. When he was out of sight over the hill, the Once-Ler gulped past the sudden lump in his throat, unable to stand the persisting silence between the group. Chet and Brett glanced uneasily at each other before backing away to the Super Axe Hacker, where they climbed aboard and drove off, quick to return to work. Aunt Grizelda and Uncle Ubb picked up their axes, as well, deciding there was nothing better to do than to clear out of there and get back to work.

"Well!" Susie chirped crisply, smoothing out her skirt and sticking her nose into the air. "I think y'all took care o'that just fine. Now! Time to hurry up an' get on back to yer paperwork!" She clapped her hands, adding, "Chop-chop, Oncie!" before walking cheerily away, the only one left completely unperturbed by this incident.

The Once-Ler glanced desperately over to Norma, hoping to find some sort of encouragement or even approval in her gaze. As he had expected, all he found there was that same unrecognizable look from before, the one that turned his stomach to ice just looking at it. A cold fist closed around his heart as she gave her head a slow, almost imperceptible shake, turning and briskly walking away from him without another word.

All that was left under the great, smoggy sky was the Once-Ler, staring back at his looming factory, for the first time finding that his perspective had been shaken.

* * *

That night, as Norma Harlow walked through the Truffula Valley, she couldn't get the Lorax's words out of her head.

She was on her way to the Once-Ler's house; no matter how disappointed she was in him for the way he had conducted himself earlier, the way he had gotten so _angry_, she had still promised him that she would stop by and give him some company. After all, there was still some part of her that hoped that they could spend a nice evening together without arguing about his work. As much as she could help it, she would try not to bring it up. She knew, after all, that as much as she hated whenever the two of them fought over the factory, she was often the one to start it in the first place. It was a fault of hers, not being able to show any discretion when it came to keeping her mouth shut.

Still, though, it was bound to be awkward once she got to his house. The two of them hadn't spoken since the incident involving Pipsqueak earlier, and she had seen the look on his face before she had left. He'd been so _worried_. Perhaps she had done the wrong thing by just deserting him like that; she probably ought to have stayed and talked to him about it a little. After all, it was her job to be in the most forgiving, understanding position possible, seeing as he got so little support from anyone else. Despite how much he had let her down by yelling at the Lorax today, Norma couldn't help but feel that maybe, in a way, she had let him down, too. What would they _say_ to each other once she got there? Would he even want to talk to her?

If she were being completely honest with herself, the whole situation was beginning to leave her very confused and exhausted. Factory or not, she _loved _him. And that meant that while she certainly was not willing to _excuse _his actions or coddle him, she also wouldn't leave him or abandon him just because he was going down the wrong path. He needed her, now more than ever. He always tried to hide it, but she could tell sometimes just how conflicted he was over his line of work. But honestly, all this time that she had been coming to him time and time again about his factory, pleading for him to stop, nothing had been effective. Was it really good for him to keep pestering him about it, especially when he clearly cared very much about his company? He was already trying so hard to please everybody else; she didn't wish to make him feel that he had to work to gain her favor, as well.

Of course, that also brought her back to what the Lorax had told her earlier, about being careful not to end up on the "wrong side". By trying to compromise and supporting the environment _and _the Once-Ler, was she doing the right thing? It was hard to know for sure. The beauty of the Truffula Valley had been marred by Thneed Incorporated, and she wanted so much to be able to change that. And being so close to Oncie, she knew that she certainly had the ability and the influence to make a difference. So, by choosing to stay with him and keep quiet and try to be supportive, was she doing the right thing for him, but the wrong thing for the environment? And which one honestly meant more to her?

At last, she made it to the familiar little cottage. There was a light burning in the window, so she at least knew that he had stayed up and waited for her. Her heart tightened with a sudden nervousness as she approached the door, wondering what he might say once he saw her standing in the doorway. Shivering against the chill of the night air, she reached out and rapped her knuckles against the door, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet to try and circulate some sort of warmth.

She heard a bustling from behind the door, and after several seconds, it swung inside, revealing the Once-Ler, clad in his blue and yellow bunny pajamas. His hair was slightly disheveled, as if he had been lying down, and his eyes were bleary. Maybe he _had_ managed to get some sleep, after all. He raised his eyebrows slowly, almost as if he was surprised to see her there.

"Hey," he greeted sleepily, rubbing his eyes his a yawn. "You made it."

Norma nodded. "Of course I made it. I told you that I was coming," she answered. "Were you asleep just now? I'm sorry if I woke you - the light was on when I got here, so I thought you were awake."

Shuddering, Oncie ushered her inside, mumbling, "Here, come in. It's freezing out there." Once she had stepped inside, he closed the door and followed her into the house, taking a seat on his bed. "I was just doing some knitting, and I guess I must've dozed off for a little bit." He gestured to the pile of fluffy pink fabric sitting on the bed; crossing his legs where he sat on the mattress, he picked up his knitting and resumed almost effortlessly as he continued talking. "I'm really glad you decided to stop by."

"Well, why wouldn't I, silly?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood. Obviously, he was still sore about earlier, and she was determined to fix it. She took a seat on the bed beside him, looping her arms gently around his neck and leaning in to kiss his cheek, now smooth. At least he'd finally gotten the time to shave. "I wouldn't want to spend my time with anyone else in the whole world."

He blushed a deep shade of pink, after a few moments setting down his knitting with a sigh. He scooted over slightly so that he could be closer to her, offering her a small, slightly sheepish smile. "I-I guess I just thought . . . y'know, after today . . . "

"No, no, it's okay," she answered quickly, before he could say anything that would take away even that flicker of a grin on his face. "We can talk about everything in the morning, if you'd like, but . . . but for now, let's just enjoy being with each other, okay?" Stroking his cheek, she brought him closer and kissed him between the eyes, moving her lips down to the tip of his nose, then giving him a soft kiss on the mouth.

"Uh . . . o-okay," he stammered, obviously taken aback by this warmth. He had likely been expecting her to go on one of her usual tirades about the factory (and really, that _was_ what she had had planned), but tonight she simply didn't feel up to it. He'd had a long day, and she didn't want to make it any more difficult for him than she already had. "Norma? I-I'm sorry," he murmured in between kisses. "I'm really sorry. I-I know this isn't easy on you, and . . . I know how much you hate what's going on. I'm sorry."

Norma sighed softly, holding his face gently in her hands. Obviously, he wasn't going to take no for an answer. The entire situation was clearly bothering him, and she could hear in his tone of voice that he wanted more than anything to just settle it now. And she knew him well enough to understand that whatever was worrying him would keep him awake at night, and he wouldn't sleep soundly without at least discussing it first. After considering it for a moment, she supposed she could handle it without them getting angry with each other. They could just hold a civil conversation about it, right?

"Tell me what's bothering you," she whispered, kissing his forehead quickly. "Please? I can't stand to see you like this, honey, it's not like you."

He sighed wearily, closing his eyes and remaining silent for a long time. When he finally opened them again, he said softly, "I guess I'm just really confused. I-I don't know what to do, I'm . . . I'm trying _so _hard to do what everyone wants me to do, but . . . but you saw what happened today! What am I supposed to do, Norma?"

Norma frowned, reaching forward and pulling him into her arms, allowing him to bury his face in her shoulder. "I know you're afraid," she told him, her voice faint and a little shaky. Stroking her fingers through his hair, she continued, "But there's no reason to be. Everything is okay. You've just got to . . . to _listen _to the people that care about you." She took a deep breath, doing her best not to get angry as she said, "A-and I just _wish _you'd stop letting your mother bully you like this."

"B-Bully me?" he repeated, pulling away from her slightly so that he could look into her eyes. His own eyes were wide with conflict, his eyebrows knitted together with concentration. He gave his head a bemused little shake, and it physically pained Norma to see just how oblivious to his mother's mistreatment of him he really was. "What are you talking about, Norma?"

"Well . . . well, you _must _know what I'm talking about, Once-Ler," she stammered, hardly able to believe that after all this time, he wouldn't have noticed at least a handful of times before. "The way she treats you, always pushing you around and talking down to you . . . it hurts _me_ to see it going on, so I know it must hurt _you_, too. And I just wanted to let you know that no matter what she tells you, you _are_ worth it to me."

The Once-Ler, obviously having never been asked what _he_ thought of his mother's behavior, blinked with surprise, looking as though he'd just been hit by a freight train. She waited in the silence, as patiently as she possibly could, watching the look on his face change from blank shock to realization to frustration once again. He pulled her into another tight embrace, kissing her cheek; she reveled in the warmth of his breath against her skin. As tightly as he was clinging onto her, she had to wonder what he was thinking. He couldn't possibly think that she was going to just leave him, could he? Wanting more than anything to chase this thought away, she reached out and stroked through his hair gingerly, cradling him close to her.

"Norma," he murmured, shaking hard, "is it okay if . . . I-I mean, I understand if you don't want to or if you need to get home, but . . . but would you stay here with me tonight?" He paused for a moment, then added in a small voice, "I-I don't wanna sleep here by myself."

"Of course," she said quickly, not allowing herself to think about how furious her parents would be with her for staying the night with her boyfriend. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she pulled back so that he could see her facial expression, giving him a gentle smile as she repeated, "Yes, of course. Anything you need, I'm right here."

Relief flickered across his features and he leaned in to kiss her lips with uncharacteristic softness. "Thanks," he said quietly, gently moving a lock of hair behind her ear. "Oh! But, uh, what about your pajamas and stuff?"

She giggled lightly, returning his kiss before answering, "Oh, that's fine. I'll just sleep in this. Now, I think _you _need to get some sleep." Shifting her position, she quickly took off her shoes, tossing them to the ground as she clambered between the sheets, making herself comfortable in his bed.

"Right," he responded. Pushing back the sheets, he moved closer to her, lying down on his side so that he could face him. Her hands trembled slightly as she rested them on his chest, and his arms twined around her waist comfortably. The two of them now warm beside each other, he yawned slowly before leaning in to kiss her forehead, nuzzling against her. "Thanks for sticking with me," he mumbled, obviously beginning to fall asleep.

Still playing absently with his hair, Norma said, "There's nowhere else in the whole world that I'd rather be. I love you."

"Mmm . . . love you, too," he sighed, closing his eyes, unable to keep them open a minute longer. Still, his comfortable, reassuring grip on her never slackened as he added, "Goodnight, Norma."

"Goodnight, Once-Ler. I'll see you in the morning."

_Oh, Norma, _she thought as she drifted off to sleep, safe in his arms, _your parents are going to kill you tomorrow._

Still, as wonderful as being so close to him felt, she couldn't quite bring herself to care. For once, her worries about the Once-Ler (and his worries about the factory and his relationship with his family) did not follow them into their dreams.


	17. Chapter Seventeen: Mr Wiggins Returns

The next morning, Norma awoke to the sound of someone humming. The voice sounded familiar, a boyish tenor that skipped and scooped bouncily from note to note, but she was, in her restful state, unable to pinpoint exactly who it belonged to.

Still caught in her hazy, half-asleep state of betweenness, she smiled contentedly to herself, curling up in her cocoon of sheets. It was warm in this bed, and comfortable, too, but it certainly felt _different _than her own bed. Norma's mattress at home was stiffer than this one. So blissful was she that she couldn't even bring herself to _care_; instead, she merely yawned softly, shifted her position under the covers, and began to doze off once again. The pleasant, sweet aroma drifting through the air assisted in lulling her off, along with the sound of something sizzling, as if it were in a frying pan. Her stomach rumbled noisily in response to the appeal to her senses. _Breakfast_.

Norma blinked her eyes open slowly, her vision spinning dizzily for a few seconds as her mind lifted itself from the fog of sleep. Blearily, she lifted her head from the pillow, using her hand to quickly wipe away a tiny spot of drool left on the side of her face, not yet awake enough to be embarrassed about it. She sat up in bed and scratched the top of her head, drinking in her surroundings. Bright yellow walls, sunlight streaming in through large, open windows. Clothes, including a very familiar pair of bunny pj's, strewn _everywhere_. And, most importantly, an endearingly-cluttered kitchen, where a tall young man stood with his back to Norma, busily cooking what smelled like pancakes.

And then, the realization washed over her like a bucket of ice water. Jolting to a state of alertness, Norma remembered that she had slept over at the Once-Ler's house last night. The two of them had been in his bed. _Together_. Nothing had happened _except _sleeping, of course, but the very idea sent a tingling sensation throughout her whole body just thinking about it. She had never been so close and personal with someone before, least of all a man. It was exhilarating to think about, regardless of how innocent it had been. He'd been so vulnerable with her, so soft and adoring; even in all the time they had been in a relationship with each other, she had never before seen that side of him.

She didn't even want to _think _about what her parents would say when she got home.

Sliding out of bed, Norma padded slowly and as quietly as possible up to the Once-Ler, grinning mischievously. When she was close enough, she looped her arms around his waist, standing on her tiptoes and leaning to kiss first behind his ear, then his cheek. He gave a start beneath her, then laughed and turned to face her after smoothly flipping a pancake.

"Hey! Good morning," Norma greeted, beaming as she stared up at him. "You look like you're feeling at least a little bit better."

The Once-Ler's face lit up, and without missing a beat, he leaned in and kissed her with uncharacteristic gentleness against the lips. When he pulled back, he pressed his forehead against hers, sighing softly and allowing his hands to rest on her waist as he murmured, "I am, yeah. Hey, thanks for . . . y'know, for staying with me last night. I know it must've sounded like a totally _crazy_ idea, but I think it really helped."

"Oh, no, I was glad to," she answered, stroking the back of his neck. "You needed me. And as a matter of fact, I slept better last night than I have in months."

Eyes brightening at her reassurances, he gave a broad smile and said giddily, "Really? Me too! I didn't even know at first if I was gonna be able to get to _sleep_, but once my head hit the pillow I was _out_. I don't even think _I_ realized how tired I really was."

"See? I _told _you going to sleep in a real _bed_ can do wonders. I don't make this stuff up, dearest!" she laughed playfully, reaching out to ruffle his hair, which was already slightly mussed from sleep.

"Well," said the Once-Ler, nuzzling gently against her, "I think it was better because I had someone here with me who's really special and who I happen to care about a whole lot. That miiiiight've had something to do with it." He paused, kissing her cheek, then said lightly, "Was that too cheesy?"

"Mmm . . . you're pushing it. You might want to watch out," she warned him with a snicker and a teasing swat on the chest. For the first time, she noticed that even so early in the morning, he was dressed in his garish green suit, minus his hat, which was resting on the nearby countertop. "Oh, you're already dressed. Do you have to go into work early today?"

"Yeah," he answered with a yawn. "Buuuuut never fear, 'cause I, being the caring soul that I am, got up early anyway to fix you breakfast." Kissing her forehead quickly, he laughed and took her hand, leading her to a seat at the table.

"Once-Ler, you're too much," Norma informed him matter-of-factly, though she couldn't help but let a giggle escape at the end of her sentence.

As he crossed back over to finish preparing breakfast, he laughed and said, "So I've heard. Hooooookay, these bad boys look just about finished." He grabbed a spatula and, after prodding the flapjacks a few times, flipped them expertly one-by-one in a neat stack on the nearest plate.

"They smell great," said Norma. Eagerly, she leaned forward and propped her elbows on the table as he set down the plate in front of her. "Once-Ler?" she said around a mouthful of food, sure that she must not look very graceful, but unable to bring herself to care very much about it. "I love you."

Chuckling again, the Once-Ler smoothed back her hair and pressed a kiss against the crown of her head. "Why? Because I'm feeding you breakfast for free?" He winked playfully, but after a few seconds his voice and facial expression softened. "I love you, too," he added, scratching her shoulder softly. "I love you so much, Norma."

Something in his voice suggested that he knew all too well that this good humor between the two of them would not last long. Norma had said last night that they would talk everything over in the morning, and well . . . now was the time. He seemed to be bracing himself for a rocky morning before the argument had even begun.

Norma sighed. The sincerity and the tenderness radiating from his voice only served to remind her that _technically_, they should be fighting with each other. After all, despite the softness and vulnerability he had shown with her last night, she still found herself to be a little upset with the way he had conducted himself in front of the Lorax and Pipsqueak, his _friends_. She knew that perhaps she ought to be more forgiving of him, especially since the entire situation had taken him off-guard and he hadn't seemed as if he had really known _what _to say. But something about the ordeal seemed very difficult to let go. Maybe it would be better once they finally talked it out with each other.

Considering, of course, that she actually worked up the _courage_ to talk to him about everything in the first place.

She supposed that she ought to save that conversation for later. The two of them were in such a good mood right now; the morning was beautiful and placid, the sun shining brightly through the open windows. Why ruin such a perfect day with such an inevitably ill-fated conversation? If she were socially graceful, her next course of action would just be to keep quiet, perhaps compliment his cooking. If she were tactful and practiced good sense of timing, she would just continue to keep her lips clamped shut as she sawed at her pancakes with a plastic fork and knife. The tension in her shoulders returned as she thought it over for several seconds; she bit the tip of her tongue to keep the words shut tight in her mouth.

Norma couldn't help it when, despite her efforts, the words came spilling out, anyway.

"I think," she said, tentatively at first, slowly but surely gathering enough momentum to propel her forward into the conversation, "you owe the Lorax and your friends an apology."

The Once-Ler visibly gave a start at her words, his utensils clattering onto the plate as he dropped them with surprise. Blinking mutely, he stared back at her with wide eyes, as if she had just reached out across the table and smacked him hard across the face. He shook his head, jolted, his cheeks paling, eyebrows shooting upwards to hide behind his bangs. Norma shrank back after a second, shoulders caving in somewhat, a pang of guilt pricking her heart like a needle as she took in the hurt and betrayal she saw on his face. Only when he spoke up again did she relax, though the tone of voice he used was very little comfort.

"What?" he said, so softly that Norma wondered if her words had knocked all the air out of him with the force of their impact.

Inwardly relieved that he looked more shocked than actually angry, she swallowed hard and set her jaw. _I am brave,_ she reminded herself. _I am brave. I'm doing this to help him, and everyone else, too._

"You heard me," she said, keeping her voice as level as possible. Clearing her throat, she added, a little more confidently, "Listen, Once-Ler, this has been on my mind for a really long time, a-and for a while, I couldn't even figure out a way to say this. I didn't _want_ to say it. But now I realize you _need_ to hear it. Once-Ler, you can't keep doing this. This stuff with your factory, chopping down the trees and smogging the air and . . . and most of all, telling people that nothing is wrong! It's not _good _for you, don't you see? I know you think the Lorax is annoying and preachy, and you've always thought that for as long as I've known you, but please, I'm begging you, _listen _to him."

There was a long pause. At last, when Norma was just beginning to think she couldn't take the quietness any longer, he spoke up again, saying, "Question. _Why_ are you just bringing this up _now_? Out of - out of all the time we've had to talk about it, why now?"

His voice was still very faint, almost thoughtful. He wasn't yelling, even though his inflections hinted at anger or annoyance. Norma wished he would just yell at her already. Nothing could be worse than this tension between the two of them.

_Norma, old girl, _she thought to herself with a tight grimace that felt like it might split her face in two, _you've got to learn to control that mouth of yours._

Still, she couldn't keep her frustrations with him bottled up inside her any longer. Once she started, she couldn't stop.

"I _have_ been trying to talk to you about this!" she cried, all thoughts of having a pleasant breakfast now completely abandoned. "The truth is, a long time ago, the Lorax asked me to talk to you about your factory. He thought you would listen to me better than you would him. I guess he was wrong."

Once-Ler scoffed, and now his anger was plainly visible on his face. His cheeks, pale and ashen moments earlier, now flooded with a dark red color, giving them an indignant blotchiness. His mouth twisted into an ugly sneer. His posture was rigid, defensive.

"Well, maybe I _would _listen if you'd just _tell me _what's got you so worked up!" he spat in return, looking genuinely thrown off-balance despite his efforts to keep his cool. "You never, ever tell me what's going on, but I can always tell when you've got something on your mind. I see it in your eyes, sometimes I even _ask_ you about it, and you don't tell me! How am I supposed to fix things I don't know about?"

"But you _do _know about it! You can't honestly tell me that when you look out your office window, you see only _good _things happening out there. You can't possibly be _that_ deluded. You know exactly what's going on, and you're choosing to ignore it. And I happen to know for a fact that you're better than that," she fired back, trying to keep her voice level and even as possible. She clenched her jaw, her attempts to look cool and impassive most likely in vain.

His eyes widened, his jaw dropping open, and he looked utterly baffled for a split second before reverting to anger once again. "_Stop _that," he said. "You're not gonna do that to me, Norma. You're not gonna guilt-trip me like this. Don't you think I've got enough on my plate right now without having to worry about whether or not the animals are happy? If I knew what to do about it, don't you think I _would have_ by now? I don't _know _what to do," he repeated for emphasis.

"You don't know because you don't listen to anyone who says that your factory is anything but the most perfect thing in the world! You just shut out whatever doesn't make you feel good, and that's what's going wrong here, Once-Ler! You can't keep doing this!" Clenching her hands into tiny fists at her sides, she added slowly, stumbling over her words, "S-sometimes you can just be so - be _so _. . . egotistical!"

He snapped up from his chair, sliding it back under the table with a typical clumsiness that would have been comical if the atmosphere wasn't so tense and serious. A bubble of laughter threatened to erupt in Norma's chest, working its way to her mouth, but she kept her lips clamped against her hysteria. It was just her nerves working against her, making her feel so frayed. If she started acting like she felt, she might _really _go crazy.

When the impulse to laugh died away, she noticed that he was striding briskly into the other room, most likely hoping to drop the conversation. As much as she loved the Once-Ler, Norma was all too aware of his bad habit of wanting to worm his way out of discussions that did not suit him. If something was ever said that he didn't want to hear, he was very good at shutting it out and denying it, along with making the whole world deny it with him. He was caught up in his own little world of fame and fortune, and, although she was certain his intentions were good, she was even more sure that he was only deluding himself.

Norma was determined that the Once-Ler was _not _going to shut her out again. Not this time, not when he needed to hear what she had to say more than ever.

Standing up, she slowly followed him into the next room, where he was darting quickly around the room, gathering paperwork and stuffing it into his briefcase to get ready for work. (How he kept his home so completely disorganized and yet managed to pull off such a professional image in front of his lawyers and co-workers and business associates was beyond her.) As she walked into the room, he studiously ignored her. This hurt more than Norma had anticipated; maybe both of them had taken their arguing too far this time. They had snapped back and forth before, but they had never actually _yelled _like they did just now. Norma's hands shook at the very thought.

She should regret what she had said to him. She _should_. But she didn't - not when she knew that what she was saying could save him, could save _everyone _in the Valley. Perhaps her wording was a bit harsh, but he had been coddled by his family and co-workers for too long now. She had to make him see what he was doing. He was worth all of messiness that came with speaking her mind.

"Once-Ler?" she said tentatively as she watched him bustle around the room, waiting to catch his eye. She hated how weak she suddenly sounded, but this was harder than she had thought it would be.

"Look, I'm late for work, Norma. We can talk later," he answered, not even bothering to look back at her.

"O-oh. Well, are you _sure_? I mean, if there's something on your mind, you're more than welcome to - " Norma began, though his clattering about the room drowned out her words.

In his haste to gather all his things, he accidentally bumped the top of his head against a low shelf, with enough force to rattle the books and decor that sat on top. He howled with pain, clutching his head and gritting his teeth, muttering, "Sheesh!"

Now, _this _was a side of the Once-Ler that was more familiar to her. This, she could deal with.

In his flustered state, he attempted to scurry past her out of the room, but Norma managed to stumble in front of him just in time to bar his way.

"Please, please, wait, Once-Ler," she begged, reaching up shakily to rest her tiny hands on his chest. She felt the wild, erratic beating of his heart and stared into his eyes, aching with worry and a devotion to protect him. "I'm sorry if I've hurt you by saying all this, or if you're angry with me. Just _please_ stay so we can talk about this. It'll only get worse if we don't."

She watched him carefully as, bit by bit, the anger slipped away from him. His tight, ramrod-straight shoulders slumped in defeat, his tense posture slackening to a more natural position. His entire body seemed to deflate as the heat of his temper washed away, the redness on his face softening to a shameful pink. There was a carefulness in his eyes that Norma wanted more than anything to just go away. She wanted things to be like they were last night, with him so comfortable and relaxed around her, so open and unguarded. Where had those feelings gone, and what were these monstrous walls that had been built between them so quickly?

"Okay," he said at last, his voice much quieter than it had been before. Sighing, he nodded and gulped, his Adam's Apple visibly working for a split second before he added, "Go ahead. Let's talk. I-I don't know what it's gonna _help_, exactly, but . . . " he shrugged, looking more defeated than she had ever seen him before, "I guess we oughta give it a shot."

_Now he's calmed down again, for the most part. That was fast. If only he could learn to control that temper of his_, thought Norma critically. After a beat of silence, she flinched and blushed with embarrassment as she realized that she was just as much at fault as he. She didn't have the right to think such malicious things about him just because she was upset. After all, technically, this was all her fault for bringing it up in the first place.

They were both deeply flawed people just struggling to feel accepted, and with each other, they _did_. That was why they had begun their relationship in the first place. Acceptance. Realizing each other's flaws and working around them for the betterment of their relationship.

Of course they had their arguments sometimes, but they still genuinely loved each other. It wasn't worth throwing what they had away over one area where they couldn't see eye-to-eye. Norma couldn't imagine leaving him over something like that. Not the Once-Ler, who was so close to her that his harebrained, spastic personality was almost second-nature to her by now, as easy as breathing.

Realizing that perhaps he was just as shaken by their argument as she, Norma cleared her throat and gently reached for his wrist. She offered him a tiny, barely-there smile and guided him over to the couch, taking a seat slowly. He sat down next to her, his hands trembling slightly; he dragged his palms across his pants to wipe the sweat away, bouncing his leg restlessly. Seeing his insecurity made Norma decide to swallow the brassier side to her personality, at least for the time being, and attempt to be soft-hearted with him.

The heavy, awkward silence persisted between the two of them for so long that it became nearly unbearable. At last, Norma drew a shaky little breath and reached forward to lightly clutch his hand, stroking her thumb in circles along the outside, stroking gently, comfortingly over his knuckles.

"I really hate fighting with you," she sighed, her voice tinged with frustration. Daring to look up into his eyes, she added, "I just think that you deserve to hear what's really on my mind. I mean, I wouldn't ever want you to hide your feelings from me, so I wanted to give you the same thing. I'm sorry, I know it's not what you want to hear from me, and I do wish that I could find any other way to say it, but . . . this is really important. For _you_. This is for your sake more than mine, Once-Ler."

"For _my_ sake," he repeated flatly, staring down at his lap, looking very dubious. "Well . . . well, if you're doing this for _me_, then why can't you just support me, Norma?" He looked up at her, genuine bemusement in his eyes, and Norma cringed with guilt as she realized how betrayed he must feel, even if she knew she was right. "_That's _what I need from you. That's what we're supposed to do, we support each other."

"Yes, that's right," she conceded softly, trying to keep her words from getting unintentionally sharp. "But supporting each other doesn't mean that we turn a blind eye and let each other make big mistakes when we know we can help." She paused, noticing that he was looking away again, looking highly embarrassed. Trying her best not to sound like she was talking down to him or treating him like a child, she reached out and stroked his cheek lightly. "Once-Ler? I love you so much. And I _do _believe in you, you know. I don't want to see your biggest dream just fail. I'm trying to help you. Don't you see? This is about more than just the trees now. One of your animal friends got _hurt_. Something's got to change before it gets worse. Before _people _get hurt, too."

The Once-Ler sighed, exasperated, and clapped his hand to his forehead for a moment, sliding it down his face. When he removed his hand from his features, he shrugged and said, "Look, what do you want me to _do_, Norma? Just shut down my factory? Fire hundreds of workers? I'm creating jobs with this company - you tell me, is that good business to just get rid of it? Is that good for the economy?"

There was nothing cruel or harsh in his tone of voice; he spoke very matter-of-factly, uncharacteristically self-assured.

Norma started with momentary surprise. She had never known the Once-Ler to be especially business-savvy. And now here he was, spouting off facts about the economy? Surely his mother or his lawyers had trained him to say this as a sort of automatic response against critics. She had heard that excuse from him before, used in a flippant, joking tone of voice on television. But now when he spoke it so sincerely, as if he really believed in what he was saying, she had to admit, it made her uneasy. What were they telling him while he was locked in that office all day?

(It wasn't that she considered him to be childish or unable to think for himself, she just knew that when it came to his family or wanting to please everyone, Oncie could be extremely, dangerously impressionable. He'd be willing to believe in anything if it made him friends and let him become liked and respected.)

"I don't know _what _to tell you when it comes to that," she answered honestly, lifting her shoulders in a thoughtful shrug. Shamefully, she gazed down at her fingers, twisting them nervously in her lap, wishing that she could say more to help him. "I'm sorry," she said after a long pause. "I know that this must not be a lot of help to you. It's just . . . well, there must be _some _way we can work this out so that both of us are happy."

There was a beat of silence.

Then: "What would make _you_ happy, Norma?" The Once-Ler rested his hands on his skinny knees, giving a resigned sigh.

She knew the answer she was supposed to give. _Just seeing you happy will make me happy, darling_. And yet somehow, this answer didn't quite feel adequete to her. She was well beyond the phase in their relationship of wanting to just appease him and say what she was supposed to say. Besides, she had never been the personality type to take kindly to that sort of thing, anyway.

So, if she wasn't supposed to say that, then what _was_ considered an acceptable response?

Sighing, she scooted closer to him, finally deciding that all this arguing was really getting them nowhere. There was obviously a great deal to think about in the current situation, and she hadn't given herself enough time to contemplate it from _both_ perspectives. Maybe after she had had a while to mull over everything that they had talked about just now, then she'd be able to see things more clearly. Or maybe she could talk to her mother about it; Jean Harlow always had an answer for _everything_, especially when it came to men and relationships. It wouldn't be such a bad idea for her to speak with her own mother about everything, now would it?

Looping her arms lightly around his neck, she pressed her forehead gently against his, relaxing against him. His posture remained stiff and guarded against her, as if he were still a little afraid that she would recoil and hit him, or get angry with him again. Stroking the nape of his neck to provide him some form of assurance, she lifted her shoulders in a quick, confused shrug, not really sure _what _to tell him.

What _would _make her happy? If she told him that she would rather him just shut down the factory and stop production of thneeds, then that would, in effect, be telling him that he should just drop all his dreams for her sake. And that was _incredibly _unfair and selfish. She knew how seriously he took his work; he saw it as his one good accomplishment, the one thing he'd managed to do right in his whole life. Why should she take all that away from him when she knew how much it mattered to him? Surely they could find a way to keep his factory running without compromising the safety of the animals and their habitat. Because she couldn't simply allow him to keep going on as he was _now_, either. There seemed to be no room to compromise here.

"Hey," she said softly, looking up through her lashes into his eyes. They seemed a deeper blue than she had ever seen them before, bright and wide and set with determination. "One of us can't be happy if the other is miserable. I don't want that for us. If I'm happy and comfortable in this relationship, then I want you to be, too." She stroked his face, smiling at how familiar the gesture had become. "We'll figure it out. And I-I'm sorry that I got us into another fight."

"S'okay," he mumbled in reply, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment. "I-I get it. I know that you've been thinking all this for a really long time, and, um . . . I don't know, maybe it's good for us to just let off some steam every once in a while." He hesitated for a moment, as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed to be affectionate or not, and then leaned in to kiss her lips very lightly. "I love you," he murmured. "You know that, right? I-I'm just super stressed out with work and everything right now, a-and it's kinda making me crazy. I'm sorry I haven't been . . . _me_ lately. But I still love you."

Holding his face gently in her hands, she said, "Sssh, sshh, I know, sweetheart. I know it." Trying to keep her voice as calm and soothing as possible, trying to be the steady one in contrast to the Once-Ler's mounting emotions, she took him in her arms, moving her hands from his face to wrapped around his shoulders. She rocked him slowly, rhythmically against her as she said in a low, soft voice, "Everything's going to be just fine, you'll see. We love each other, you and me."

He buried his face in her shoulder, and as she reached to stroke his back, she noticed that he was trembling all over. Holding him tightly against her, making sure that he felt safe and comfortable in her arms, she dropped a kiss quickly against the crown of his head, whispering his name. He smelled clean and fresh, natural, distinctly male. It was hard to imagine that the same bright, energetic, happy-go-lucky personality was the same person crumpled up in her arms, looking and feeling so small and helpless. It pained her to see him like this; she wanted him to be whole again, to be his old sunny self. She hoped dearly that the success of his factory hadn't taken that away from him.

"Well," said Norma, pulling back from him slightly, her hands light on his shoulders. "I think it's just about time for me to get going. You've got to head to work, and I've got to get back to my parents. I'm sure I'm already in trouble," she said with a rueful grin in his direction.

He blinked, as if he had just for the first time remembered that she would have to explain herself to her parents later. "Oh," he gasped, smacking his forehead. "That's right. I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to get you in trouble." His face reddened with humiliation and he looked up at her, clearly flustered. "Should I give you a ride home on my way to work?"

She smoothed out her skirt, shaking her head. "Oh, no, that's perfectly fine," she answered briskly, squeezing his hand quickly for reassurance. "Besides, I don't want you to be around when I _do _get home and have to face them both. I think my father might try to strike you." She couldn't help but laugh a little at the end of her sentence; the least she could do would be to at least _try _to restore the good mood between the two of them.

"Mom's gonna be mad at me if I'm late for work, too," he mumbled, contributing only halfheartedly to the conversation; he seemed reluctant to turn back to a good humor, or at least was having an awkward time trying to get back into their usual groove. She didn't blame him. "Sorry for keeping you so long. I'll call you after work, okay?" he leaned in and, very quickly, kissed her cheek, setting her whole body ablaze.

She nodded slowly. "Alright. I love you. And . . . don't push yourself too hard today, okay, Oncie?" she eyed him seriously; it was a quirky habit of hers to use his pet-name when she was being the most sober with him. She much preffered his real name.

"I-I'll try not to," he conceded, and Norma saw on his face that his real answer was: 'I can't make any promises'.

Norma studied his features in the silence that followed. He looked incredibly shaken, in a way that she had never seen him before. What was all this stress starting to do to him? There had to be something that she could do to save him and keep him away from all this. It was ruining him; ruining _them_. He'd just been spending so much time cooped up in that office, no wonder he was beginning to crumble like this right before her eyes. He needed to get out and breathe and just not think about thneeds for a while. (She had to admit, a lot of this was her fault, too; if she didn't pester him about it so much and keep him so pressured, maybe he wouldn't feel so torn and on edge all the time.)

Looking into those big blue eyes, Norma wished in vain that she could just do the right thing all the time. She knew that no human being was hardwired to be absolutely perfect in every relationship, but it still seemed so unfair that her flaws would harm the Once-Ler, too. Of course, not _all _of this fell on her shoulders, but she couldn't help but feel responsible for causing a good deal of the rift in their relationship. Why couldn't she be tactful and well-spoken like her mother? Even her younger sister knew what to say better than Norma did sometimes.

"Hey, Norma?" asked the Once-Ler when the silence began to prickle uncomfortably between them. "Can I ask you a favor?"

She had just started to draw away from him, standing up and brushing herself off, and he straightened up slightly, smoothing out his jacket. She raised her eyebrows and looked up from her fingers into his eyes; they were red-rimmed, but his cheeks were dry, his shoulders still shaking visibly. Gulping and giving himself a few seconds to steady himself, he reached out and gently grabbed her wrist, his eyes wide and pleading.

"Yes?" she asked softly, her heart clenching and unclenching with relief as she watched a sort of calm finally start to return to his eyes. "What's the matter, Once-Ler?"

"Uhm," he began nervously, looking down at his feet before getting off the couch, as well, standing close to her. "I-I know you're still mad at me, and if you wanna be angry or . . . or yell at me, that's fine, I understand. But . . . stay with me? I-I mean, don't . . . give up on me, 'cause I can fix things. That's what I'm saying."

For the first time in a long time, here was the Once-Ler, completely unguarded. There wasn't a trace of the big-shot businessman the media thought him to be in the look that he gave her now. There was a reverence in his stare that made her chest flutter and ache with longing, her entire body tingling with the sensation of his eyes meeting hers. She glanced down at their entwined hands for a moment, then lifted his hand to her lips. Pressing a kiss to the center of his palm, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze, holding it between hers. She could see a faint, barely-there stirring at the tips of his fingers, and knew it to be the beating of his heart.

"Here I am," she murmured, lacing her fingers through his once again before leaning in to rest her head against his shoulder. "I'm right here, okay? And I always will be. Don't ever forget." Bringing her free hand up to rest on his chest, holding on lightly to his tie, she added softly and slowly, "I love you. I'm not going to leave you."

He seemed bemused, relieved, and elated all at once, his heartbeat racing. "Soooo . . . . Y-you mean you're _not _gonna yell at me?" he asked, his eyebrows creasing together with momentary confusion.

Unable to help herself, now, she wrapped her arms tightly around him and grinned broadly, giggling. "No," she sighed, the tension slipping from her shoulders. She could feel him relax against her as well. Finally, the two of them seemed to be getting back to normal. "I don't think I feel much like yelling at anybody anymore. Not right now, at least. If you keep up that habit of leaving the toilet seat up when I stay here with you, then I might have to, you know." She nipped playfully at his earlobe, eliciting a soft, familiar laugh from him.

He sighed wistfully. "Why can't we just be this way all the time? Just . . . happy with each other. No fighting involved, ever. I hate that I can't be good enough to act all the time like you're the most important thing to me, 'cause you _are_, and . . . and you deserve to feel like you are."

"Because," said Norma matter-of-factly, reaching out to straighten his tie out of habit, "we're both far too stubborn and opinionated for our own good. That's bound to happen with two people who both want to be right all the time." She let a tiny smile touch her features, then looked up at him, still keeping her hands on his chest. "That's something we'll have to work on, I suppose, but . . . it doesn't change how I feel about you at all."

Covering her hands with his, pressing her palm down so that she felt his heartbeat, he said, "Good. 'Cause _nothing _could change how I feel about you. To me, you're the - the best thing that's ever happened to a guy like me." He managed a tiny smile, shame still bright in his eyes.

Norma blushed, her heart fluttering. She had never been the best thing that had ever happened to somebody before. She had never quite considered herself important enough, that someone could possibly care about her that much. Even now, months after their first date and tentative steps towards a relationship, it still never failed to make her head buzz and her pulse speed up when he talked to her so affectionately. He could completely dizzy her sometimes.

"Hey," she said after a short pause, kissing the tip of his nose tentatively, "you _are_ good enough, you know that? If I didn't think you were good enough, I wouldn't stay with you. I love you. You are so worth all of this. Worth _everything_. N-no one's ever told you that, have they? That you're really worth it? You _are_. You're a good man, I know you are." She swallowed unevenly, then, to ease the tension, laughed shakily, "And now you've got me so head-over-heels in love with you that even _I'm _doing the cheesy-monologuing thing now."

The Once-Ler managed a short, barely-there laugh. She could tell that he was only trying to humor her, but it was better than nothing. It had genuinely frightened her to see that guarded, angry person he had had on display earlier. That wasn't him. That was stress making him act that way. She knew that deep down - or maybe even _not _so deep down, maybe right there within reach - he was still his same old adorable, goofy self, and wouldn't ever change for the world. The whole situation was just difficult for him.

Norma wished she could try harder to be more understanding of him, especially considering her level of devotion to this man.

He cleared his throat, brushing back a lock of her frizzy hair and tucking it behind her ear, and mumbled, "M'sorry I yelled at you today. I-I mean, I'm _really_ sorry. That's not - that's not how I should be with you. I shouldn't act like that to you."

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, glancing away for a moment; Norma could tell that even though he was being completely sincere and genuine with her, it hurt his pride to force the apology from his throat. As different as they were from each other, they were very much alike in that respect. Both of them always had a difficult time admitting when they were wrong. This, at least, she could relate to, and she didn't have a big ego that required him to grovel and beg just for her forgiveness. She knew, without him saying another word, that he meant it. Not everybody, especially somebody under as much stress as him, could be cheerful all the time.

"It's okay, Once-Ler," she answered him assuredly, kissing him on the cheek. "Really. You don't have to worry. I-I'm sorry, too. Maybe I shouldn't have even brought it up, not yet, at least. And after you were feeling better this morning and everything, I went and put you in a bad mood again. I guess I should've been more patient with you, I don't know. I just want to do the right thing, and . . . " she sighed, pursing her lips, and paused to collect her thoughts. "Thanks for the pancakes," she said at last, giving a hollow laugh as she suddenly remembered what had started this whole awful conversation.

"No problem," he laughed somewhat unsteadily as well, kissing her forehead. "I guess you oughta get going now. I don't mean to hold you up here." Pulling away from her slightly, he glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, sighing as he bent to pick up his briefcase once again. "I gotta go, now, too. I'm supposed to be meeting with some big-shot business clientele today. Yaaaaay," he deadpanned.

"Well, good luck," said Norma, the tightness in her chest ebbing away slowly as they eased back into a normal conversation pattern. Vaulting herself up on tiptoe, she kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I love you. I'll talk to you later, alright?"

"Alright." He placed his hand on the small of her back for just a moment, kissing her in return. Despite the fact that they had argued all morning, she couldn't help the skip in her heart from his touch, his affection. "I love you, too."

And, regardless of the words that had been exchanged this morning, Norma knew that he was telling the truth. He loved her. She knew he meant that with all his heart.

* * *

"Oncie! You're late! Where on Earth have you been?"

The Once-Ler bit his lower lip hard to stifle a groan, turning around as he heard the clack-clack of heels following behind him in the hallway. As he had expected, it was his mother, and she did _not _look in the least bit pleased with him. She looked disheveled and slightly windswept, as if she had been looking for him all over the place. He consulted the clock ticking on the wall above him, raising his eyebrows; what was all her nervousness about? He was only ten minutes later to work than usual. He'd shown up nearly an hour late before and it hadn't bothered her nearly this much.

"Oh, hey, Mom," he greeted casually, giving her a crooked smile and unconsciously straightening his posture, as he always did whenever his family was around. He glanced over her shoulder for a moment, as if that would perhaps provide some clue to her flustered attitude, before looking back to her and saying, "I just overslept a little this morning by accident. Forgot to set the alarm clock. I must've been more worn-out than I thought."

He lifted a hand to his mouth to cover up a yawn that started off fake, but turned real after a second or two. Susie Once-ler did not look amused; she gave him a quick once-over, pushing her glasses farther up on the bridge of her nose, and gave a high-pitched humph of disapproval. She folded her arms neatly across her chest, striding briskly down the hall towards his office. Once-Ler, of course, had no choice but to trail behind her.

"Well," she huffed, that dreaful, tacky faux fur she wore (that Oncie had always hated) around her neck swaying as she walked. "It sure don't surprise me at all. You sure picked a rotten time to decide to drag yourself to work late, son," she drawled, her accent particularly heavy in her irritation. "Didn't ya remember we've got that big ol' businessman to talk to this mornin'?"

"Yeah! Of course I remember!" he said, nodding quickly, hoping to regain her favor as soon as possible. As awful as his morning had been so far, he didn't want to disappoint his mother and add to the shame he already felt sitting in the pit of his stomach like a stone. "But I've got plenty of time for that, right?" He shrugged his shoulders and looked over at her for approval, but the look on her face worried him. "Waaaaaaait a minute. He's not already _here_, is he?"

If he wasn't mistaken, the Once-Ler thought that his mother shrank back from him a little. If she did, though, it wasn't because she was afraid of him or what he would say, but rather that she knew her son was in a position of power. He held the ability to fire her or give her a raise or pull any strings for her career in any direction he pleased. This, he suspected (especially after what Norma had had to say last night about Susie bullying him), was where her newfound respect for him was coming from.

Oncie hated to admit it, but Norma's words had planted the seeds of doubt in his heart. For a long time, despite their little in-between spats, they hadn't really discussed the factory situation with each other. This morning's explosive argument was a milestone for them, an important one; he was just exceedingly grateful that they had made up with one another fairly quickly enough. Even though his anger had long since faded away, he still couldn't help but feel as though his perspective on his life's work was suddenly shaken and jumbled. What _was_ the right thing to do? There seemed to be no proper answer.

What if Norma was right, had been right all along, and he really _was_ the bad guy? _Egotistical_. That's what she had called him. Norma wasn't the sort of person to just fling words around without thinking about them. She wouldn't have said it if she hadn't meant it. Did she really think of him that way? He knew she loved him, he could feel that she loved him whenever she so much as looked at him. But it worried him that he might slowly be turning to the villain in her eyes. He didn't want her, of all people to view him that way. She had always been there to support him through everything in the past; what would happen when she no longer gave him that support? Would she hate him because she disagreed with him? What would she think of him?

His mother's voice drew him out of his thoughts. "I miiiiiight've let him in when he got here a few minutes early," she replied breezily, swatting her hand carelessly in the air. A nervous little laugh punctuated her sentence. "But there ain't nothin' to worry about now, honey! Now that you're here, you can talk to 'im yourself. He's waitin' in your office."

Too stunned to be angry with his mother, he headed toward his office doors, straightening his tie and trying to assume a professional demeanor. He truthfully had no idea who he was even meeting with today; he had been partially distracted when his mother had asked him to talk with the man, and so he had swiftly forgotten the name that she had mentioned. All that he knew was that he was pretty popular among the Greenville citizens, the son of a local politician who possessed a great deal of sway within the town. Hopefully, he could work the conversation so that Thneed Inc. took a turn for the better in Greenville.

The office doors swung open, and the Once-Ler stepped inside, his jaw dropping as he caught sight of the stocky figure seated at his desk, feet propped casually up on the glossy wood. It had been a long time since they had last spoken, but this man's face was not one that the Once-Ler would easily forget. The blonde young man at his desk smirked and gave an idly teasing wave, his politician's smile possessing all the charm and appeal of a piece of sandpaper.

"Oh. Where are my manners? Allow me, y'all," said Susie from just behind his shoulder, stretching out an arm to introduce him. "Oncie, this is - "

"We've met," said Arthur Wiggins.


	18. Chapter Eighteen: Biggering

"Hey," said the Once-Ler in an immediate, knee-jerk reaction, "get out of my chair. Last time I checked, that was my desk, buddy."

"Oncie," Susie hissed warningly, her eyes widening behind her spectacles. "Why don't you show our guest some o'that Southern hospitality I raised ya with?"

Arthur chuckled, a low, predatory sound that stuck low in his throat. "Oh, no, that's quite alright, Mrs. Once-ler."

"_Ms. _Once-ler," she corrected quickly under her breath, her cheeks reddening, as well. "I'm divorced."

"Ah. Forgive me." Arthur's apology was flippant and careless, rolling right off his tongue as smoothly as though it were a line in a play. "Yes, I remember you mentioning that on television, now that I think about it. Bit of a nasty situation in the home before you split, I assume?"

The Once-Ler bristled, his cheeks darkening ever so slightly. He couldn't help it as the tension slipped into his shoulders. Despite the fact that she often talked down to him and now he couldn't even be sure if she _really _supported his factory or not, the fact remained that this woman was his _mother_. And what good son didn't stand up for his mother when her good-for-nothing ex-husband was mentioned, and in polite conversation, no less? However badly Susie might treat her family, that was nothing compared to the way that the Once-Ler's father had acted.

"Whoa, whoa! Be nice," Oncie snapped defensively, pointing his index finger accusingly in Arthur's direction. "We're here to talk business, not bug my family about things that aren't any of your business. Now - now leave her alone, why don't you?"

All traces of vulnerability and sheepish embarrassment now gone, Susie cleared her throat and smoothed out her skirt, a familiar fire returning to her eyes. "Oh, hush, Oncie, I can take care of myself just fine without you cryin' and carryin' on about me," she retorted, waving her hand artlessly at her son.

He flinched, but knew well enough when to obey and when to speak up, so he said nothing more. It was a struggle, just like always, to bite his tongue against what he _really_ wanted to say, but he knew his mother would have none of that. It wasn't necessary or worth losing a client over. Besides, they had better things to do today than just sit around and nurse the wounds of a sensitive issue. The Once-Ler had spoken with many a rude lawyer or business associate before today; he could handle the likes of Arthur Wiggins.

And, he had to admit, part of his guarded attitude came from the fact that last time he had spoken to Mr. Wiggins, he had been at a party, pretending to be involved with Norma just for the purpose of making Arthur, for lack of a better term, back off. Though he knew that Norma was devoted to him and would certainly never run off with Arthur, of all people, he couldn't help but feel a little on edge around the man. True, Wiggins had lightened up ever since the party, and as far as Oncie knew Norma hadn't heard anything from him, but he was still understandably reluctant to associate himself with someone he knew to be so deplorable, business or otherwise.

"Oh, no, no, I apologize," said Arthur, rising from the desk and walking around to where the Once-Ler stood, that same wide, incredibly false grin growing more infuriating by the second. Again, his apologies sounded overly-polite, rehearsed. "It wasn't in my place to ask such a thing. As you said, we've got quite a lot to talk about here, so . . . let's get to it, shall we?"

Susie clucked her tongue awkwardly, glancing between the two men, her eyes wide and glassy. Oncie could tell - very vaguely, but still - by the look on her face that she was, somewhere deep down, she was grateful to him for standing up for her. She had to be, right? After all, he was risking the loss of a potential client for his company and the ruination of his business reputation, all for her sake. Who wouldn't be grateful to their son for doing that?

Even if she really wasn't and it was all in his head, he was glad to imagine it, anyway.

Before he could guess what she was thinking, however, she exhaled, obviously sensing the mounting tension in the room, and chirped, "Well! I've got things of my own to take care of, son. I was in the middle of a phone call, myself, when your client dropped by. I'll talk to y'all later. And remember, Oncie - " she beckoned him closer now, so that Arthur couldn't hear, and hissed, "Learn how to control that mouth o'yours. Ya ain't doin' your company any favors by actin' like this."

He bit his lower lip to keep himself from flinching, his nose wrinkling slightly at the heavy smell of that pungent fragrance she insisted upon wearing. Today, it smelled as if she had showered in the stuff. He had seen this dangerous look in her eyes before; behind that sweet smile that she kept up for appearance's sake, there was something very deadly waiting there. He could feel it.

It was hard to believe that the woman he had been sympathizing with earlier, almost ready to defend at the risk of losing his job, could possibly be so standoffish to him mere seconds later. But, that was his mother's personality, and so he had to grow up learning to just live with her ever-changing moods and fancies. While one minute she could appear so small and vulnerable, the very next instant she could turn around and browbeat and talk down to a person until they felt absolutely horrible about themselves. He suspected that after such a long time of having to put up with his father, it was a sort of self-defense mechanism she had learned.

Gulping, Oncie nodded his head swiftly, glancing over to Arthur an instant before he straightened up his posture, giving his mother a complacent grin and waving her off. She seemed pleased by this reaction, smoothing her skirt out and giving him one last arch of her eyebrows before turning to walk towards the door.

"Y'all boys play nice, now," she called over her shoulder as she strode to the office door, all business now that she didn't have to handle the situation on her own.

"Ohoooookay, Mom," said the Once-Ler, bouncing awkwardly on the balls of his feet as she stepped briskly from the room. He gave a soft, nervous little laugh, looking after her until she disappeared from sight.

The doors to his office swung shut with a mighty creak; the sound seemed to effectively seal his fate right then and there. Tugging restlessly at his tie out of nervous habit, he turned to face Arthur, unable to help himself as a sheepish grin made its way onto his features.

It had been a long time since the two of them had last stood face-to-face with one another. Their last encounter at Mr. Wiggins' party had been entirely orchestrated on Norma and Oncie's part, but this time, there was no room for faking any reactions to one another. Arthur had looked down on the Once-Ler last time they had spoken, but not this time. This time around, the Once-Ler was the most successful man in the room, and he didn't have a _reason _to feel inadequete. Besides, Norma had chosen _him_. Out of all the people she could have possibly chosen instead of him, she had wanted _him_. Not Arthur. Oncie experienced a sudden rush of triumph and gratification as he stared across the room at the blonde man and considered how the tables had been turned.

"Soooooo . . . " Oncie rubbed his hands together slowly, his voice trailing off quickly. The awkward grin on his face quickly withered and he cleared his throat, squaring his shoulders to create a more distinctly professional air. "Uh, what was it exactly that you wanted to talk to me about?"

Cracking his knuckles, Arthur paced slowly about the room in the silence that followed, as if it were _his _office, and not the Once-Ler's. He cleared his throat and said, with a careless, almost flippant demeanor about him, "Well, first of all, I must say that you've really outdone yourself with this office of yours. Not at all what I expected of you."

The Once-Ler arched his eyebrows slowly, wondering whether or not he ought to consider this a compliment. "Uhh . . . thanks, I think," he replied, glancing around quickly at the gaudy, ornately-decorated room, chest swelling with pride. "Y'know, to be honest, I'm kinda surprised you even remember me. I mean, we've only ever met one other time, at that party, and we didn't talk for a reeeeally long time or anything."

"Oh, now, you mustn't flatter yourself all that much," said Arthur with a chuckle so forceful that it lifted and shook his broad shoulders. "In all truthfulness, I didn't remember you. I throw so many parties at my house, you know, and the one that you attended wasn't particularly memorable. No, what led me to your little factory was a commercial I saw while flipping through the television channels a while ago. It was an advertisement for your, uh . . . invention. The thneed. And I realized that I recognized your face, though I couldn't place it with a name."

Oncie blinked back at the fair-haired gentleman, trying his very best to keep from scoffing and ushering Mr. Wiggins out of his office as quickly as possible. _Seriously, who even talks like that_? he thought, fighting the urge to roll his eyes as he crossed back over to his desk. Taking off his tall top hat and setting it on his desk, he plopped down into his chair, as if to claim it back from the other man. He propped his elbows on the glossy surface of the table, steepling his fingers.

"So, what's this all about? Caaaaan I ask _what_ you're doing here, exactly?" asked the Once-Ler, unable to decide from Arthur's cryptic, question-dodging monologues what precisely his intentions were. "I mean, you couldn't have just waltzed into my office just to tell me how great my commercials are, right?" Even though he had to admit, the idea was appealing enough. "I know you're involved with business, too, so, y'know . . . spill. What's the deal?"

"What, does all this work of yours suddenly have you averted to a little bit of friendly conversation?" Arthur said with his typical smarminess, giving the green-suited man that infuriating toothy smile. "Well, alright. If you absolutely _must _know, I've come here because I have . . . well, a bit of a proposition for you."

"Oh?" said Oncie with a sigh. "Aaaaaand what exactly would _that_ be? Listen, I'm gonna be honest with you. I've had a horrible morning, and I'm kinda already waiting for this meeting to be over. Not feeling my best, y'know how it is. Um . . . can we maybe speed it up here? A little?"

He winced and his shoulders lowered self-consciously; he wondered if he were perhaps being too forward. He still hadn't yet mastered the skillfully careless attitude towards his business partners yet. He was hard at work trying to hone it, with mixed success so far. Still, when the person he was talking to happened to be Arthur Wiggins, he found himself much less motivated to care about his manners. Especially when the attempt at diplomacy clearly would not be returned to him in this particular case.

This was typical. Just so wickedly typical. Another get-rich-quick scheme from yet another shrewd businessman, it seemed. He had heard an awful lot of those with the soaring success of his factory, and it didn't look as though it would be letting up anytime soon. While he supposed he ought to be flattered by the reception, and grateful for the attention his company was receiving, he had to admit, it got on the tedious side sometimes. Especially since _every_ single proposal was nearly identical to the last, and none of them served to benefit _his _factory in any real way.

Not for the first time today, he found himself going back to his conversation with Norma that morning. Their first real _argument_ that went farther than their usual spats. As much as the entire ordeal had made him uneasy and a bit frightened by the changed atmosphere between them, he had to admit that she had succeeded in at least halfway proving her point to him. He couldn't ignore any longer the guilt that fell onto his shoulders whenever his factory was mentioned. Especially not when his eyes had been opened and he could see for the first time how caught up in himself he really was. How could he allow other businessmen to give his company money to support the expansion of his factory, when all around him the environment was falling apart? How could he sleep at night knowing that he was just getting rich off his friends' misery?

It was definitely a lot to take in at one time, to say the very least. Glancing back at Arthur, he bit his lower lip and contemplated the situation for a moment. He supposed that he ought to at least give the man a chance; after all, he hadn't even pitched his idea yet. Who was to really say _what _he had on his mind? He didn't want to endanger his relationship with Norma, but he couldn't just give up his business career, either. He would just have to give the entire thing a lot of thought, that was all; he could trust himself to make the right decision. Couldn't he?

Before he could answer his own question, Arthur spun around quickly on his heel, cleared his throat, and said in his usual loud, prideful tone of voice, "I've been giving this a lot of thought, Mr. Once-ler, and I think that there's something we could do with this factory to benefit us both. As you may or may not be aware, I own a significant portion of the company, 'Wiggins Technologies'. It's a mostly weaponry-based system, but recently I've been thinking about the possibility of a potential merger between Wiggins Tech and, well . . . Thneed Incorporated, not to put too fine a point on it."

To mask his surprise, the Once-Ler gave a very false, airy laugh, quickly covering his mouth with his gloved hand. Even now, it still never failed to amaze him how many famous eyes were drawn to his company. A great many successful, well-to-do businessmen that Oncie highly respected (despite not having a clue what it was they actually _did_) had expressed interest in Thneed Inc. before. But he had never really had to make a business decision entirely on his own before. He had always had his lawyers or his mother or sometimes even his secretary to help him out. He was all alone now, though; he'd been thrown to the wolves and left to his own devices.

He could figure it out; of course he could. After all, he had heard of Wiggins Technologies. They were a revolutionary industry in that they had developed brand-new, progressive ways of building and operating their machinery, and had very much to do with the technology present even in the small town of Greenville. Mr. James Wiggins, Arthur's father, was the founder of the company, and was a respectable man - Oncie would have much rather met with _him_ to discuss a potential merger, rather than Arthur Wiggins, whom he suspected hadn't the slightest idea how to make a good business move.

Finally shaking off the initial shock, Oncie blinked and stuttered, "Uh, okaaaay. _Wiggins Technologies_? W-wants to merge with _me_? Waaaaaait a second here. How'm I supposed to know you're not just, like . . . scamming me or something? 'Cause I'm not _that_ stupid." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, not wanting to be too suspectible to any tricks this untrustworthy sort might have up his sleeve.

Arthur chuckled. "Of course, of course. I'm sure you're thinking that I must be lying. Why would any company possibly be interested in yours, right? It's so small, after all." The grin on Mr. Wiggins' face broadened, knowing that he had effectively caught the Once-Ler in a trap of reserve-psychology. "Well, as it so happens, Father himself asked me to come on his behalf today to talk with you about it. He's very busy, you know. Has to take my brother up to a business seminar he's hosting. Big-name. All the biggest leaders are going to be there. Would explain why you're here right now, I suppose. Anyway, here's his business card, if you're at all interested."

The blonde man paced slowly over to the Once-Ler's desk, placing a small rectangular business card on top of a precarious stack of papers. Oncie leaned forward, taking the card and holding it up to the light where he could read it properly, very aware of Arthur's eyes on him as he scanned quickly over the words. Sure enough, he was telling the truth - remarkably. The Once-Ler clicked his tongue, clicking a ballpoint pen and scrawling down the phone numbers on the card, reminding himself to add it to his list of important contacts later, when he didn't feel as though his every move was being heavily scrutinized.

"Um . . . alright. Soooo. _If_, and that's a big _if _here, okay, 'cause I've got a lot of people to talk with this about, but, uh . . . yeah, if I decide to go through with this, what exactly does a merger with Wiggins Technologies _mean _for this company?" Oncie drummed his fingers restlessly against his desk, squaring his shoulders, all business. He could at least attempt to look professional, if Arthur was going to make him feel like a total child.

"Oh, I was just getting to that part!" There was a new excitement in Wiggins' voice now, his eyes alight with thinly-masked avarice and greed. Turning to face the Once-Ler now, he brought his hands down heavily on the man's desk, grinning so widely that it nearly split his face in two. "If you should choose to merge with Wiggins Tech., then there's a good deal of profit involved for you. For both of us. Of course, you'll need to expand this factory of yours. It might be biggering, but it's still much too small for the technology we've planned on installing."

Arthur shook his head with firm resolve, sure of the possibilities for the factory and somehow unsure of the place's potential at the same time. The Once-Ler cringed instantly. Well, as if the choice needed to be made any _more _difficult. Now he had to go and mention that. _More _biggering? What was he supposed to say to that? The factory still hadn't treated the problems created from their last expansion, and now they were going to build on more? Perhaps this was where he ought to put his foot down. After all, he was the boss of all these people, not the other way around. This was where he had to do the right thing, do what Norma would want him to do.

Then again, this _was _his job. He couldn't just keep his factory at a standstill while other companies caught up to him. He had fierce competition to keep up with, after all, and he was sure that if he denied this proposal for a merger, then it would be more of a loss than gain for him. Norma honestly couldn't expect him to just give up his life's work for the sake of the environment, could she? That would be just plain unreasonable. Even through all their arguing, she had been nothing but supportive of him from day one. She knew how much he cared about his work. She would never ask him to throw it away completely like that.

No, there had to be a way that he could compromise both sides of the coin in this situation. Maybe he could still choose the merger, but could somehow convince Arthur and the rest of the employees that he didn't need to make his factory any bigger than it already was. There had to be room to negotiate here. After all, if his factory didn't expand for this project and if he actually took the time to address the smog and runoff problems, then his relationship with Norma was saved, as well. He could keep his job and keep her at the same time. Simple!

It was all a matter of whether or not the businessmen from Wiggins Technologies would actually _listen _to him.

"So?" said Arthur expectantly, relaxing his posture now, his facial expression quickly slipping back into a mask of casual indifference. "What do you say to that, Mr. Onceler? Will you do it?"

Though his tone of voice was quite careless, Oncie could still see in the man's eyes that he was waiting with bated breath for an answer. _Oh, okay_, the Once-Ler realized, raising his eyebrows with a slow nod to himself. _So that's why he's so enthusiastic about all this._ It hit Oncie that since Arthur worked with Wiggins Technologies, he would benefit from this, as well. More money for him as well as more money for Thneed Incorporated. That was the real reason behind all the excitement, all the sudden false kindness. What else was new?

Clearing his throat, the Once-Ler scratched the side of his head thoughtfully, pondering the situation for several long, quiet seconds. (Norma had never ceased to remind him that she thought it rather hilarious how he was so loud and energetic until he really needed to think about something, and then he became so silent and deeply involved in his own concentration.) He raked his thin fingers through his bangs, sighing, and lifted his shoulders in a quick shrug, unsure of what he really _could_ say for the time being. He hadn't the slightest idea what he intended to make of the situation, and Arthur pressuring him certainly wasn't making things any better.

"Um . . . listen, Arthur," he said through his teeth, rubbing absently at his nose for a moment. When he lowered his hand, he drummed his fingers gainst his desk, his entire body wired with nervousness. "I, uh, I really appreciate the offer and everything, and I'm definitely gonna take everything you just said into consideration, but, uh . . . d'you think it'd be okay for you to give me a couple days to . . . think everything over?"

"Think it over?" If Oncie wasn't mistaken, he thought he could detect annoyance and a high impatience running clearer in the other man's tone by the second. "What do you need to think it over for? I've just told you all there is to tell you. It's very cut-and-dry. Why don't you just make a decision _now_?"

No. He didn't know precisely why, but something inside him told him that he absolutely couldn't make a decision right now on a whim, not before consulting Norma or his lawyers or heck, even his mother. As much time as he could possibly stall on this was needed, he could just feel it. He knew himself to be impetuous, and while most of the time this personality trait benefited him, it was his downfall on rare occassions, and he didn't want this to be one of them. Besides, if Arthur Wiggins, of all people, had a reason to pressure him about this, then it certainly be something that would be very much worth it to begin with. He wasn't risking his relationship with his girlfriend and the success of his factory all for the sake of a man for which he held an open distaste.

"Yeah, I just wanna talk it over with some people before I make any choices, y'know? It's a lot to think about. I appreciate you coming by and all, but I'm gonna have to just say no for now. I-I mean, who knows? After thinking it over, I might decide that I wanna go through with it! I haven't totally ruled it out yet, it's juuuuust that I need some time to mull it all over."

He raised his eyebrows and scratched the side of his head, unable to completely disguise his anxiousness. He wanted more than anything for the man to just leave his office and allow him a few moments' peace; the sooner this conversation could end, the better. If he had thought that attending Arthur's party posing as Norma's boyfriend had been uncomfortable, that was nothing compared to the scrutiny of the man's gaze as he looked the Once-Ler over. The contempt in the blonde man's eyes was bright, splattered plain onto his face, as well, indicated by the upturned curl of his lip, the wrinkling on the bridge of his nose.

At last, Arthur said in a flat, cold monotone, "Fine. That's just . . . _fine_, Mr. Onceler. I should have suspected as much. I suppose I could come back this time next week and talk to you about it again. I hope you will have reached a decision by then."

"Uhhh . . . yeah." He laughed nervously in return, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. It was difficult for him to assume authority in front of a man who seemed to take all of it for himself, anyway. Besides, it didn't seem as though Arthur was paying very much mind to the Once-Ler's actions any longer, now that he had lost expressed interest in the expansion plan. "Listen, sorry to, y'know, disappoint you or anything, but I'm not really that stupid, okay? I mean, you're not gonna be able to just . . . scam me out of all I've got."

"_Scam _you?" repeated Arthur, incredulous, though something in his gaze indicated that he wasn't as surprised by the accusation as he should have been. "I have to ask you why on Earth you're so suspicious of me. I come here to make a perfectly honest business deal with you, and here you stand accusing me of corruption!"

_Aaaaaaand there he goes with that uppity way he talks again. What time period does he think he's in, anyway? _the Once-Ler thought to himself, putting his hand against his mouth for a moment in order to smother a laugh. When he had recovered himself, he cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders, gathering his thoughts for a moment. He knew that when he was nervous, he had a tendency to stutter and stumble over his words, and he certainly didn't want to project an even stronger aura of weakness than he already was.

The Once-Ler clicked his tongue thoughtfully, standing up from his desk in order to pace casually around the room (he had seen businessmen on television and in movies do it before, and while he typically preferred to remain seated when discussing things with other businessmen, he figured he might as well give it a try). "Weeeeeeell, let's think about this a minute, okay, Arthur?" his voice only wavered slightly when he spoke. He had never been a good public speaker, and even after months of practice, he still hadn't gotten any better at trying to get his points across effectively. Still, he tried to stand his ground as he added, "You and I have never been really _friendly _with each other. And let's be honest here - Wiggins Technologies is a huuuuge company, but look at Thneed Inc. Over the past few months, we've gotten just as big - maybe even _bigger_."

"_Bigger_?" repeated Arthur, bewildered. "Your little business, bigger than the company my family has run for _years_? Well, I'm sure you're exagerrating _there_ - "

"And," he cut in quickly, not wanting to waste another second dawdling with this man. To him, the conversation was already over, and he wanted Wiggins out of his office as quickly as was humanly possible. "I know your brother's kinda infamous for doing that kind of thing. And he works for the same company as you." He held his hands up complacently at his chest now, adding quickly, "I mean, don't get me wrong, I haven't ruled it out as an option yet. I just . . . wanna make sure of some stuff first. You get that, right?"

He inwardly cringed, hating how apologetic he sounded to someone who irritated him so greatly. After all, who _ran_ Thneed Incorporated here? Certainly not Arthur Wiggins. He was the guest in this office, not the other way around. The Once-Ler squared his shoulders, forcing himself to just grow a backbone already and stand his ground. He had always hated in the past how impressionable and flimsy he could be when it came to making business decisions, had always hated how he seemed to have such a horrible case of Passive Doormat Syndrome. Well, now, wasn't this just a good a time as any to _stop _being a doormat and start being CEO?

After all, without him, this company wouldn't even _exist_. If his hands hadn't carefully slaved every night over knitting needles, trying to get every stitch exactly right, then all this success would just be nothing. His blueprints had brought into creation the very first images of this towering glass-and-steel factory building; the building itself had created hundreds of jobs. From something that could from so many viewpoints be considered bad, he had managed to make something good. Hadn't he? Yes, this was a good thing. Certainly a good thing. He had told hiself this over and over again before, especially following his fight with Norma earlier, and now the words rang true more than ever. His factory was _good_. So shouldn't he fight to keep its integrity even stronger than he ever had before?

Arthur seemed, at last, to take the hint. With a short, clipped sigh, he pursed his lips and began collecting his things, taking his briefcase in his hand in a swift, fluid movement. "Oh, yes, I _get_ it, sir. There's nothing wrong with wanting to take things into consideration."

"Good!" responded the Once-Ler, trying to remain as calm and level as possible, an easy grin on his face as he reached his desk again, sitting down. "Sooooo, we'll talk about this later, and I think that takes care of everything, doesn't it?" He beat a quick drumroll against his desk with his hands, rocking back comfortably in his chair. Now that the conversation was finally reaching a close, it was becoming increasingly easier to relax in his own office. The room, for the first time all morning, felt comfortable again.

"Yes," said Arthur, his tone of voice short. "But, if I may, Mr. Onceler, I'd like to add one more thing before I go."

"Which is?" he answered, already leafing through a stack of paperwork, no longer interested in the conversation.

_Ugh, why can't you just _leave _already? _he thought, fighting with all his might against an exasperated groan building in his throat.

A smirk played across Arthur's features. "I wouldn't let Norma Harlow make all of your business decisions for you in the future. I wouldn't trust _her_ as far as I could throw her. Just some friendly advice."

The Once-Ler froze. His muscles turned rigid, his fingers clenching, making the tendons in his wrists stand out, even beneath his gloves. He felt the rush of crimson stain his cheeks, the tips of his ears, even the back of his neck, though whether it was from embarrassment, indignation, defensiveness or just plain _anger_, he couldn't guess. Hearing _any _businessman mention his girlfriend's name so casually, so _mockingly_, would have set him on edge, but it was ten times worse coming from someone whom he _already_ didn't trust with Norma to begin with.

Oncie knew that Arthur had once been a good friend to Norma, and had quickly tossed her aside once he had gained richer, more "important" company. He also happened to know that, despite how much his girlfriend claimed up and down that it didn't matter, it had hurt her very much. So, naturally, it upset him that much more to hear someone like him bad-mouthing her, and with the nerve to say it to _Oncie, _of all people. He didn't trust _Arthur_ farther than he could throw_ him_.

"_What_?" said the Once-Ler, looking up quickly, his eyes narrowing, face flushing even darker as the seconds ticked by. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Maybe it's not my place," said Arthur, the smirk on his face only serving to widen triumphantly when he caught sight of how he had managed to so greatly ruffle the Once-Ler's nerves. "But if you ask me, I see Norma all over what you just said. That's _her_ talking, isn't it? Not you. I've heard rumors, Mr. Onceler, about the way your company deals. You're known to be a bit on the haphazard side - so why the sudden reluctance? I can only venture to guess that Norma said something to you that has you uneasy."

Taken aback by how forward and directly rude this man was acting, the Once-Ler sputtered indignantly, "W-well, how would _you _know? I mean, it's not like you've made any effort to talk to her or - or heck, even be _decent _to her for months. She might not be who you remember at all anymore."

"Maybe you're right." Arthur shrugged. "It was only a guess of mine, after all. I'm just offering the suggestion of not following her advice too closely. Although she may mean well, the brutal fact is, well . . . she isn't very _wise _when it comes to business. Is she?" Although the words were less harsh than the ones he had chosen before, his tone of voice was twice as condescending, making Once-Ler's cheeks blaze even brighter.

He narrowed his eyes, scoffing with utter disbelief. Straightening his tie, as if it somehow helped him keep the composure that he could slowly but surely feel himself losing, he said acidly, "H-hey! Watch it, okay? If this is your way of being polite to me and trying to convince me your company is _worth_ a merger, then you've got one weird way of showing it. I mean . . . the people that you talk about like that, they're kiiiiinda really important to me. So you juuuust might wanna rein it in, if you can help it." He cleared his throat, setting his jaw stubbornly before he added, in a considerably softer tone, "And besides, Norma's _way_ smarter than you're giving her credit for. I think so, at least."

His heart twisted achingly behind his rib cage, and he experienced a guilt that ran all the way through to his bones, sitting cold in his core, hard and motionless, like a giant stone. It seemed that all at once, he had realized all over again just how much that he really cared for Norma, how much she _meant _to him, what his life would be if he had never met her. He remembered with a twinge of his heart when he had told her that she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. That was the truth. Above all this factory nonsense, above the money and fame and recognition he had so craved for the longest time, there was her. There was _Norma_. She could have had everything, could have chosen anyone, and she saw fit to stick with an optimistic fool like him. It never failed to amaze him.

Some days, when he was less than his best, he could snap or say the wrong things, treat her in ways that she did not deserve. He had chalked it up to the stress that came with his work, and he really did believe that that was truly the reason for his behavior, but only now did he realize that no excuse in the world could cover up the way he had spoken to her on occassion over the past months. How he had talked down to her, devalued her opinion in favor of his . . . why, he was no different than Arthur, was he? Of course, they didn't fight _all _the time, but now it hit him that maybe if he would just be willing to listen to her instead of shutting her out . . . _maybe _. . .

"Really." The word left Arthur's mouth not as a question, but a cold, emotionless statement. "Do you _really _think that?" His voice gained more color now, serpentine and deceptive in its lightness. A smirk tugged the corners of the blonde man's lips infuriatingly upward. "That might not be an advisable line of thinking."

"You know what? Maybe not," said Oncie with a shrug, if only to get the conversation wrapped up as quickly as possible (he wasn't precisely sure why they were still dawdling around in his office when he had already made it clear that he wasn't offering any decisions yet). "Buuuuut it's what I think. I think she's smart, aaaand she's sweet, and pretty, and a whole bunch of other things that I'm sure would just bore the heck outta you if you had to sit here listening to me rattle them off to you. And if you can't see it, then that's your loss, pal. So that's that. Now, before I have to sic security on you, _please_ leave my girlfriend alone and get out of my office. Okay?" He lifted his eyebrows slowly.

"Hmph. As you wish." Arthur lifted his chin so high in the air that it would've been hilarious had the Once-Ler's brain not been a gooey buzzing mess of anger and confusion. As the broad-shouldered man strode to the office door, he added quickly, "I do hope you'll consider what I've talked to you about today, though. Your little factory could use some more expansions, if you ask me. And our company can help there."

"Mmm," said the Once-Ler, waving his hand absently towards the door, disinterested. "Yeah, yeah. Thank you for your time."

_And try not to waste any more of mine_, he thought with biting sarcasm, though he bit his tongue against the comment, knowing that it was just the stressful environment putting him on edge. He knew he had the tendency to be heavily sarcastic and scathing when he was tired, and while he thought Arthur deserved it, he wanted to spare himself the guilty pangs that he often experienced later on after such an outburst. Besides, it wasn't good business etiquette and would likely contribute to the tarnishing of his reputation that the tabloids had set out to do to begin with.

Wiggins, sensing that he wasn't going to get any more out of the Once-Ler, made a sort of an annoyed, disappointed scoffing sound and left the room, the doors swinging shut noisily behind him. Oncie could still hear the man's gratingly obnoxious voice down the hall as he chatted - and rather conspicuously flirted - with Ms. Funce-ler, who from the sound of her voice was reticent. Good. At least he knew his secretary had a proper head on her shoulders, even if she couldn't be trusted to brew him a decent cup of coffee half the time.

By time Arthur's absence in the building was made noticeable by the quieter atmosphere, the Once-Ler had already directed his attention to a stack of important papers balanced precariously on his desk, thankful that he didn't have to give Wiggins any more of his valuable time. He sighed, scrawling his signature on the bottom of one of the sheets of paper. Back to the second-by-second monotony of his job; as much as he enjoyed and appreciated the perks that came with being CEO, the actual _work _involved was always a huge disappointment.

Well, at least the conversation had been a bit of a distraction from all this work that he needed to complete. Now that he actually had to sit down and finish the task at hand, his mind couldn't help but wander. His personal life was consuming his thoughts, despite how much he knew it was unprofessional to do so; his mother had lectured him on it countless times before. It was just an old habit, being thoughtful, and he couldn't bring himself to get rid of it. Or even _want_ to be rid of it.

Somewhere deep down, he knew what he had to do. He knew that he couldn't accept the offer for another expansion, especially when they hadn't even fixed the factory's problems that were already present. After their argument today, Norma's trust in him was probably already entirely gone at this point; biggering the factory that she so loathed would only prove to push her over the edge that much more. Besides, even though he didn't quite agree with her, he could tell how desperate she was to break through to him on the subject.

If he continued blatantly ignoring her like this, then just how long would she be willing to put up with it? Not very long, he was willing to bet. He knew her too well to assume that her patience with him would be very long-lasting. And anyway, as much as he genuinely loved and cared about her, he should value her opinion and input, and give her suggestions at least a fighting chance instead of brushing aside her fears. She deserved to be respected, at least. He should honor what she had to say to him, shouldn't he?

He hadn't been working for long before a series of brisk knocks at his door pulled him out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat, looking up with a groan that stuck low in his throat. Surely that wasn't Arthur, come back just to hear the Once-Ler say the exact same things that he had said not even ten minutes earlier? Just how desperate _was_ this man, anyway?

Straightening his tie, Oncie shook his head and waved his hand to shoo the person on the other side of the door away, forgetting for a moment that whoever this other person was could not see him. "I'm busy," he called, his voice coming out unintentionally harsh, due to the stressful environment. He cringed, wishing he could just shake himself out of this rotten mood, and amended hurriedly, "Just come back later if you wanted to talk, okay? I've got work to do."

The door swung open.

The Once-Ler rolled his eyes. Couldn't this person take a hint? And just who did they think they were, barging into his office even though he'd just said moments ago that he couldn't take any visitors right now? Oh, yes, this _had_ to be Arthur, come back to get served another slice of Humble Pie. No one else that he knew could possibly possess such arrogance, to waltz uninvited right into someone's workplace -

- unless that someone happened to be the Once-Ler's mother.

She strode purposefully into the room, obviously driven by _something_, though he couldn't quite tell what. There was a curious, questioning look in her eyes behind her large spectacles, but her jaw was set with that familiar air of determination. Oh, great. Now, how long was he going to have to talk to her before he could get back to work? He had seen this look on her face before, and it meant that she was hungry for information. And, knowing his mother, he understood full well that she would needle him for the facts for as long as it took.

"Oncie? Ya got a minute, honey?" she asked, though he could tell from her tone of voice that his answer wouldn't matter, either way.

"Uhh . . . aaaaaactually, Mom, I'm kinda busy right now," he said, giving a sheepish lift of his shoulders and an awkward smile. "Maybe you can swing by a little later and we can talk about whatever it is you need? I've got this crazy deadline on these papers that I need to go ahead and fill out, and um . . . yeah, my schedule's pretty much booked."

She sniffled, her eyes widening and glossing over suddenly with tears. Biting his lower lip against an annoyed-yet-somehow-still-guilty groan, his shoulders slumped as he raked his fingers nervously through his scalp. _Here we go again_, he thought with a sigh. His mother was infamous for putting on the waterworks in order to get what she wanted out of people. And while somewhere inside him he knew that she was merely trying to manipulate him (his conversation with Norma made this especially, painfully clear), he couldn't help but feel the guilt-ridden pangs in his chest, anyway. He hated to think that he had hurt his mother in any way, even if it was unintentional. As great a chance that there was of her tears being fake, there was also the slim chance they could be _real _this time, and he didn't want to risk it.

"Oh, I see," she said with another piteous sniff. "Ever since ya got all big and famous, you're always _busy_, is that it? Too busy to make time for your poor ol' mama?"

She shook her head, her lips pulled in a thin line of disapproval. Oncie had seen that look on her face before - it was the face that represented a good deal of his childhood - and he didn't like it any more now that he saw it as an adult. He had thought, with the booming success of his family, that it would be impossible to go back to the days where his mother was constantly let down by his actions. He had assumed, had hoped with all his heart, that she would finally be past all that and would be content to enjoy the fame and fortune with him. After all, he had worked so hard all this time not just to earn money for himself, but for her and the rest of the family, as well. He had thought she might appreciate that.

Reeling a little from her sudden emotional outburst, he cleared his throat, prepared as always to do some damage control. "N-No, Mom! No! That's not what I meant. I would never - " he laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin, " - look, I'll _always _have time for my own mom! You know that. Okay, what did you need to talk about?"

All hopes of being able to get some work finished within the next fifteen minutes now effectively tossed out the window, the Once-Ler straightened his posture, clasping his hands and resting his elbows on his desk. He lifted his eyebrows curiously, trying his best not to be too impatient with her. After all, very rarely did his mother take time out of her schedule to come talk with him in his office; this must at least be important. Then again, Susie had a much different definition than he of the word "important".

As he had partially expected, his positive reception to her mood swing dried up all the tears. They disappeared as quickly as they had come into being, the redness in her eyes completely gone after blinking a few times. She cleared her throat, shook back her hair, and said as smoothly as if she had never even started crying in the first place, "Oh, good! I thought ya would say that, Oncie. My sweet, precious, darlin' baby boy would never injure me in such a way. Naw, sir. Aaaaaanywho, I just wanted to know how yer talk with Mr. Wiggins went. He stormed right outta the building just now. Looked real angry. What did ya say to 'im, son?"

"Oh, um . . . " he paused for a moment to collect his thoughts, shrugging lightly. "Nothing, really. He said Wiggins Technologies is looking at maybe merging with our company." He scratched idly at his temple, then at his ear. "It was a nice offer, I gotta admit, but . . . " his voice trailed off, all his words suddenly failing him. He didn't feel very brave or important anymore, in the presence of his mother.

"_But_?" she pressed, her voice brisk, eyes wide. "C'mon, Oncie, tell me what happened. It's important, ain't it?"

"Buuuuut I . . . told him I'd think about it." He shrugged again, keeping his tone even and conversational.

He rubbed his neck nervously again, unable to look Susie in the eyes. Instead, he kept his gaze trained on a black ballpoint pen sitting crookedly on his desk, finding it a much less intimidating sight. It was his decision to reject the idea of another expansion for the time being, and as uneasy as it made him, he would stand by it. But all his life, he had been told by his mother that all his ideas, all his suggestions, were stupid and wastes of valuable time. He couldn't help but be insecure when he was voicing his opinion to her even now, constantly afraid that he would be shot down by her yet again.

Judging by the dissatisfied look on her face, his assumptions weren't that far off from the truth.

Susie pursed her lips, folding her arms neatly, thoughtfully, across her chest. She bit her lower lip. Tapped her foot. Drummed her fingers against the crook of her elbow. She did everything she possibly could to stall as she thought over the situation, nearly driving the Once-Ler mad with anticipation. He knew that she was aware of how much her opinion mattered to him, and it never failed to make him anxious when she dangled her influence over his head like this.

"Aaaaand just _what_ do you have to think so darn hard about here, Oncie?" she asked, her eyebrows shooting so far upwards that they might slide over to the back of her skull. "It ain't exactly a difficult choice to make! They're real big-name, y'know. And if they wanna put their name on your products, then it's a cryin' shame if you tell 'em that they can't. Can you imagine the money that could be made from this?" Her eyes gleamed greedily; if he didn't know better, the Once-Ler could have seen dollar signs instead of pupils.

"Yeah, I-I know. I know that," he admitted, nodding his head quickly, trying his best to steady her mounting temper. Holding his hands up complacently, he added, "And I never told him an outright 'no'. I just said that I wanted to think about it for a little while first. It's not what I normally do, but . . . " he shrugged his shoulders, looking off to the side; some part of him didn't want to admit that the main reason he was avoiding the decision was Norma. He didn't think his mother would take too kindly to that news. "I dunno, I just don't really trust Arthur. I thought I might wanna look at other options first, y'know?"

"Oncie!" she scolded, her eyes widening with exasperation. "Y'all're bein' ridiculous! What's not to trust about 'im? Don't go overthinkin' this whole thing and then come cryin' to me when ya realize you've missed out on somethin' real darn special for yer silly little company." Clearly dissatisfied, she folded her arms across her chest, clicking her tongue with firm disapproval. "I thought I raised ya to make the _smart_ choices. Don't you wanna earn _me_ - aaah, I mean _us_ - some more money? That's what we're in it for in the first place! Ain't it?"

Even though his mother's true motivations behind coming to the Valley to help him with this thneeds was no surprise to him, it still hurt him all the same to hear it spoken aloud. She had, after all, never really said it to his face before. For a while, he had been content to sit back and assume that it was merely his own second-guessing himself that led him to suspect his mother couldn't care less about his company. It was painful to say the least, to have to finally face the truth for himself. He blinked, stunned for a few seconds, before he was able to find his voice. Even when he had regained the ability to speak, he wasn't entirely sure what to say.

The words slipped out of his mouth before he even gave himself a moment to think about it. Impetuous as ever, he declared, "Hey, Mom, can I ask you just who the boss is around here? You or me?"

His mouth curled into an indignant sneer and he did his best to hold her gaze, trying his hardest not to shrink back from the terrifying fire that had entered her eyes at his words. This was the first time that he could think of that he had ever stood up to his mother about anything, to any degree of success. He had learned growing up that questioning her opinion was pointless, as it only served to get him in trouble. But, well, he was an adult now, and as shaky as he felt about this entire thing, some part of him did desire to break away from the fears and anxieties that tethered him to an old identity. He wanted to be someone new and different now, someone important, well-liked, respected. How could he do that if he spent his whole life being afraid of offending people, even people who he had been so scared of crossing in the past?

Thankfully, Susie was much too shocked to make her glare as poisonous as he knew she would have liked. Her eyes were sharply narrowed, her mouth pressed into a thin line right across her face, but he had definitely seen her in a much deadlier state before. Pushing her glasses up hastily, she cleared her throat, giving him that same imperious gaze, as if he were ten years old all over again, being scolded for not finishing his homework or tracking mud into the house. He seemed to be perpetually a child to her. While she was certainly, obviously angered by what he had just said to her, deep down he suspected that she really didn't take his words all that seriously, anyway. He just needed to tread carefully in order to make it out of this conversation in one piece, that was all.

"Excuse me?" she said, her voice low, her eyebrows arching dangerously. "I thought you knew better'n to talk to your poor mama like that, Oncie." The words were reprimanding, but the hurt that she was putting into her tone seemed false, forced. "And d'you know somethin' else? You might be the _boss _of this stupid factory of yours, but I'm your _mother_ and you'd best not forget that. Ya hear?"

He flinched visibly, the harshness of her statements hitting him too quickly for him to hide it. _Stupid_? It wasn't as if she hadn't called one of his ideas stupid before (in fact, that had originally been one of her favorite adjectives to describe the thneed before it had made her any money), but it still stung. He had thought that she had finally started to see things his way. He had hoped so much that at last, he had gotten through to her and received some form of acceptance and approval from her. Did this mean that she still thought of him as the same brainless, hopelesly optimistic kid with a guitar as he was when he left home? He had tried so hard to change the image she held of him in her mind, and yet all his efforts had really amounted to nothing?

"Hah," he scoffed, his hands shaking visibly at his sides, his voice trembling only a little at the beginning of his sentence. Unable to take it any longer, he stumbled through the sentence, "Um, that's kinda funny, Mom, 'cause you didn't seem to think my factory was such a stupid thing when I just sat back a-and let you call all the shots!" He couldn't help himself; he was completely angry now, and after spending such a long time being stifled, he wouldn't allow it to happen again. (Even so, despite his determination, the words were tentative as they left his lips, as if he were only testing them out.)

For a few seconds, she looked just as stunned as he felt. Her jaw hung loose on its hinges, her body stiff, practically motionless. After a long while, she cleared her throat, drew herself up to full height (though she was still shorter than Oncie by a substantial amount), and held her nose high in the air. "Humph! I don't have to sit around and take this, you know," she said smoothly, heading for the door of his office. "Make whatever darn choice you wanna make, Oncie. I don't care. It's your funeral."

And as she marched out of his office, leaving him trembling where he stood, the Once-Ler realized exactly what choice he had to make.

And it wouldn't be an easy one.


	19. Chapter Nineteen: Pre-Engaged

"I don't believe it," said Jean as she flopped down on Norma's bed, sitting cross-legged, tugging her ankles and leaning inward curiously. "So, you mean to tell me that you actually slept with him?"

It was well into the afternoon. Norma had since returned home from the Once-Ler's house in the Valley, and although her parents had been quick to put the situation to rest, she, as expected, hadn't heard the end of it from her younger sister. The two of them were, as usual, chatting in her bedroom, Norma sitting at her vanity dresser in a pair of baggy striped pajamas, brushing out her hair. She hadn't really invited Jean into her room for a bit of conversation; it was just typical of her sister to poke her rather large nose into other peoples' business, and the oldest Harlow girl didn't quite feel up to arguing with Jean today.

She checked the teapot-shaped clock on the far wall, lifting her eyebrows curiously. The Once-Ler ought to be off work by now. She resolved that once she could manage to get her sister out of her room, she would pay him a call and check up on him. Despite being very firm in what she had said to him and feeling that it had been much-needed for a while now, she couldn't help but feel that perhaps she had badly hurt his feelings in the process. So many things were going through her mind at the moment; the sooner she could call him and get it all sorted out, the more at rest she would feel about everything. Until then, though, all she could do was watch the seconds tick by and listen to her sister prattle on about completely false ideas.

Yay.

Norma huffed, rolling her eyes, heavily exasperated. For the upteenth time since she had returned home that morning, she sighed and said, "I _told _you. Nothing happened. We just fell asleep together in his bed. That's all."

"Aaaaaare you _sure _about that?"

"Positive," said Norma with a firm nod. "And besides, even if something _had_ happened - which it didn't, before you say anything - do you honestly think that I'd run and tell you all about it? You're a thirteen-year-old girl, for Heaven's sake."

"Well - that's true," she admitted, much to Norma's surprise. She had honestly expected more of an argument. "But still! I'm your sister! And it's not like I wanna know _every_ detail, that'd be gross! I'm just politely curious, that's all." She gave a light, dainty shrug, crushing Norma's hopes that the discussion of her love life would finally be over.

Norma said quickly, "How many times do I have to tell you that all we did was sleep, Jean? It's that simple. So you might as well stop asking me. Unless you're really all that curious just for me to describe what his snoring sounded like, because that's honestly the most interesting detail I can give you."

"Oooh! Actually, I would like to know all about it, dear sister," said Jean mockingly, giving her sister a huge, diabolical grin.

Norma set down her hairbrush on top of her dresser, turning around to face Jean. She had had just about enough of her sister's questioning. After all, her parents had believed her when she had gotten home and explained everything that had happened between herself and the Once-Ler. Why couldn't her sister believe it, as well, and stop pestering her so much about the whole thing? She understood what it was like to be a nosy thirteen-year-old - she had been one once herself, after all - but it was still frustrating, to say the very least. She hadn't had a very good morning, anyway, and wasn't feeling very much like discussing her night with the Once-Ler. It had started out so calmly, so _perfectly_, and she had managed to single-handly ruin it within the course of a morning.

Ever since she had gotten home that morning, she had been thinking about him. She knew that they had made up earlier, more or less, but it still worried her. She had seen the look on his face before he had left for work. Something was different about the way he had looked at her, as if for the first time he was truly seeing that he actually couldn't agree with her on something. They were so close that in the past, their disagreements hadn't mattered. She hoped that it still didn't matter to him, that he could still continue to love her, no matter what she thought about his business choices. He didn't seem like the type who would just desert her like that for no good reason, but if he were faced with the choice of her or his company, she suddenly found herself uncertain of which one he would pick.

_Oh, now you're just being unfair, Norma_, she scolded herself. She bit her lower lip hard, knowing that she shouldn't think such spiteful things about him. He was a good man, regardless of some of the choices he had been making lately, and she didn't have a right to think about him that way. She knew how stressful his work was, and that it would be ridiculous with his newfound fame to expect him to be around _all _the time. Maybe he was right, and she ought to be more supportive of him. Still, she couldn't help but be concerned for him; deep down, there was a nagging, pressing feeling in her chest that let her know somehow that she was doing the right thing for both of them. It was just difficult for her to feel that certain _all _the time.

Drawing herself out of her dispirited, jumbled thoughts, she turned to Jean with the tiniest of smiles and shrugged her shoulders. "He laughs in his sleep," she said, deciding she ought to oblige her sister at least a few details. And that little tidbit seemed harmless. She wasn't about to describe how she had seen him almost in tears, shaky and vulnerable and just plain _sad_.

"Really?" Jean leaned forward, instantly hungry for more information, making Norma regret even honoring her sister's questions. The redhead tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, grinning ear-to-ear as she added, "Okay, that's . . . yeah, that's adorable."

"Yes," said Norma briskly, smoothing out the frizzes in her hair. "I thought so, too." She smiled a little to herself, then turned back to her sister and raised her eyebrows slowly. "There, I told you _something_. Are you happy now?"

Jean nodded, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Extremely!" she exclaimed, flashing her a toothy grin very obviously learned from Louise Harlow. "Oh, but I just thought of something else I figured I might as well ask."

Norma sighed, half-closing her eyes. "And what, pray tell," she began, enunciating very slowly, "would _that_ be?" Some part of her was beginning to think that she really didn't _want _to know.

"Weeeeeeell. The thought _just_ came to me. You know what I've always wondered is true about him? I read this in a magazine, maybe you can tell me. My _Teen People _did an article about him, and I just wanna know - is it true he's got a tattoo of a dollar sign on his - "

Thankfully, the rest of the question was drowned out by the low-pitched buzzing sound of their doorbell ringing. Jean stopped talking mid-sentence, though Norma could tell by the look on the younger girl's face exactly what she had been ready to ask about. Norma's cheeks turned dark red and she cleared her throat, standing up briskly and heading to her doorway, twisting the knob and peering her head out into the hallway. Her mother stood at the door, chatting amicably with someone on the other side that Norma couldn't see from this angle. After a few seconds, though, Louise turned and looked over her shoulder, spotting Norma and beckoning her over to the door animatedly.

"Who is it?" said Jean, rising from the bed and following Norma quickly down the hall, shutting the bedroom door behind her.

Norma shrugged, bustling down the hall. "I don't know," she answered distractedly, concentrating more on the look on her mother's face. She had seemed so surprised, and now Louise seemed to be trying to get out of the room as quickly as possible. What was going on?

As Norma and Jean approached the doorway, Louise hurried over to the younger girl's side, looping her arm around Jean's shoulder and steering her in the opposite direction. Her mother cast a look over her shoulder at Norma, an unreadable expression that was given so hurriedly that she couldn't quite decide what it meant.

"Who's at the door, Mom? Someone interesting?" asked Jean, her eyes alight with that same curiosity as always. Why she always felt the need to poke her nose into her older sister's business was beyond Norma. (Though she had to admit, she was asking the question that Norma wanted the answer to, as well, this time.)

"Come along, Jeanie," said Louise briskly, walking up the flight of stairs. "Let's be polite and give Norma some privacy. Oh, and then, d'you know what? You can help me pick out my jewelry for that cocktail party that I have to go to tonight." The two of them clambered upstairs noisily behind Norma's back, and she wasn't exactly sure what was the reason behind all the commotion until she turned and saw who was standing in the doorway.

The Once-Ler.

All at once, the breath seemed to leave her. His eyes were wide and deep with a frantic sort of desperation, bright as his suit, brighter than she'd ever seen them before. He seemed to be incredibly flustered, a light pink coloration in his cheeks and a shine on his forehead, as though he'd sprinted his way here. (Knowing the Once-Ler, he probably had; when he was that determined to be somewhere or do something, he would do almost anything to get there. If there was no transportation from his office to her house, he would have surely found a way.) His hair was disheveled, slightly windswept, and his tie was loosened slightly, sitting askew around his neck. He was taking quick, shallow breaths, his chest rising and falling quickly with every motion. His hands trembled slightly at his sides.

Instantly, Norma was grateful to her mother for having the sense to get her younger sister out of the room so that she could have a conversation with her boyfriend. She could already imagine just how much more difficult the situation would have become with Jean giving the Peanut Gallery commentary behind her back the entire time. Still, as she took in the Once-Ler's appearance, she had to wonder what had him looking so frenzied. The only other time she had seen him this excited had been the time that he had tromped all the way over to her house just to ask her to be his girlfriend, and that was six months ago. (Well, that and the time that he had sold his first thneed, and she dearly hoped that he hadn't come all the way to her house on foot just to talk to her about his invention.)

Suddenly, she felt very underdressed in her wrinkled, ratty old pajamas. This was the first time he had seen her dressed in something other than bright patterns and sundresses, and while normally she wouldn't have cared _what _it was that she was wearing, for some reason she couldn't help but feel self-conscious now. A dark blush tinted her cheeks, and she gripped the doorway to keep her own emotions steady. Every part of her itched to leap forward and fall into his arms and escape the grim reality of the trees being chopped down, their relationship coming apart at the seams, everything. She wanted to be really _happy _again, and whenever she looked at him, she was reminded of how much he was was worth fighting for.

"Once-Ler?" she gasped, her eyes widening behind her spectacles. "What are you doing here? I thought you would've just gotten off work a few minutes ago. Wh-what's going on? Is everything alright? Tell me what's wrong."

He nodded his head quickly, obviously still trying to catch his breath. She stepped back a few paces, just to give him room to collect some air. When the flushed pink color began to bleed from his face and down onto his neck, he sighed and pushed his hand through his sweat-dampened bangs, shaking his head quickly. She was almost tempted, through her surprise and excitement, to make a joke about how out of shape he was, but in her stunned state, she could barely bring herself to form syllables. Instead, she just waited for him to talk again, figuring that he would be more than willing to fill the silence.

"N-No, don't worry, nothing's wrong," he answered, waving his hand artlessly. He paused and took a deep, hiccuping breath, at last beginning to regain his composure. When he had calmed down a bit, he sighed and added breathily, "Everything's okay. Or . . . or maybe nothing's okay anymore! I-I don't know!" he laughed, suddenly overcome with giddiness, looking a little dizzy as he clapped his hand against his forehead for a moment.

Norma eyed him cautiously. "Uuhhhh . . . okay. Oncie?" she arched an eyebrow slowly, knowing that whenever he got blustery and erratic like this, whatever he was thinking about was very important. "Are you _sure _that you're alright?" she cleared her throat, doing her best to keep her voice as a calming current in contrast to his wildness. "Tell me what's going on."

"Norma," he breathed, placing his hands on her shoulders gently, his eyes ablaze. "I-I think something _amazing's _just happened to me. I-I think I realize something now, something I didn't before. A lot of things, actually." He gulped, as if he were actually physically swallowing his pride, and looked right into her eyes, his own eyes wide and burning with that determination that she had only ever seen in him. No one else was quite as passionate as he, in quite the same way. "And you'll never guess what brought it all on. Arthur Wiggins came to my office today. Remember the business clientele I told you about? It was _him_, Norma." He let out another incredulous laugh.

Trying to quell the tension between the two of them, Norma smiled a little, hoping to match his spastic musings with a little humor of her own. After all, the only way she could even hope to keep up with him in the conversation would be to return to their usual banter."Well," she said with a smirk of amusement, quirking an eyebrow, "I should hope that Arthur's not what has you all excited like this. I would hate to think that my only competition is Arthur Wiggins, of all people."

He shook his head quickly, laughing along, as well, though she suspected that he was only offering some obligatory chuckles to appease her. There was a brightness in his eyes that had completely washed over his facial expression by now, and Norma realized that he was probably so immersed in whatever it was that he was thinking about that he didn't even care to take time to respond. He raked his fingers nervously through his bangs, jittery even for his hyperactive personality. Whatever it was that he had to say to her, it must be vastly important. The realization of this made Norma's stomach tighten and roll inside her; she gritted her teeth and stubbornly urged the butterflies in her stomach to fly in formation.

"You're never gonna believe it, Norma," he said, stumbling a little over his words. By the way he kept using her name in his sentences, so insistently, over and over again, she could tell it was vastly urgent - to him, at least. "I-I _get it _now. I get it! Don't you see? I-I told you that I would make the right choice, I told you I would do the right thing!"

"What are you talking about?" asked Norma, knitting her eyebrows together and tilting her head to the side, concerned. "What's the matter, Oncie? I've never seen you acting so strangely before." And that was the truth; she knew that he had the tendency to get overexcited about little things sometime, but he seemed so serious about whatever was on his mind. It was a little unsettling, to say the very least.

Taking a deep breath, his cheeks turned dark as he launched into his explanation. "When Wiggins came by my office today, he wanted to talk to me about a possible merger between my company and his father's. A-and I thought about it for a minute, I actually really did, but . . . he mentioned that in order to do that, the factory would need to expand. Again." He sighed, his shoulders slumping a little, giving a slight roll of his eyes.

"W-well . . . " she began, biting her lower lip, eyes widening with intrigue, "well, what did you say to him? Did you agree to it?"

"I realized, y'know, when he asked me about the deal," he said, his eyes wide and questing as he searched for the proper way to word his sentence, "that I had a biiiiig choice to make here. Maybe it's been there this whole time, and it just took me until now to see it. I don't know. All I'm really totally sure about is that today, I had to choose between my business and you."

Norma could feel her mouth forming the question. _So, what was it? What did you choose? _She felt her brow furrow, the way it always did when she became curious. But the first syllable had barely even left her lips before she was silenced by the Once-Ler. His hands were on her shoulders, a gentle and yet a firm, steady sensation at the same time. And he whispered her name, just her name, and then their lips met. Forgetting to be embarrassed by the fact that her mother was just upstairs, along with her nosy younger sister and possibly her father, forgetting everything other than just being with Oncie for the moment, she flung her arms around his neck and squeezed her eyes shut, kissing him back with fervor. They quickly fell into their familiar rhythm, both of them just reveling in each other, unable to break apart for the longest time.

And then, when they did pull back from each other, their arms were still twined together, Norma's on his shoulders, Oncie's on her waist. Her cheeks were ablaze, and no matter how hard she tried to calm the stuttering in her heart, she just couldn't manage to quell her sudden nerves. She had kissed the Once-Ler, of course, several times before; after all, they were in a serious, committed relationship now, and neither of them was very stingy with affection. Still . . . this time in particular seemed to hold a much greater significange, and she couldn't quite say why. Her eyes wide and rounded, the blush on her face darkened considerably as she gazed in wonderment up at him. This new atmosphere between them was so strange and unusual; she didn't know exactly what to make of it.

"D'you even have to _ask_?" he murmured, raining delicate little kisses down her neck, nuzzling against the curve of her shoulder. She closed her eyes a moment, choking on the sudden lump in her throat, her cheeks heating up with embarrassment as she felt tears brim in her eyes. As she stroked through his soft hair, reveling in the warmth of his breath against her skin, he mumbled, "_You_, Norma. I-I chose _you_. Don't you know that you're so, so much more important to me than any dumb ol' factory could ever be?"

"Am I?" she replied, half-gasping. She had never been the sort to get incredibly flustered and taken with emotion, but as she held onto him like this, listening to his words so intently, she realized all at once just how long she had been aching, waiting for him to say them. Had he realized at last that all this nightmarish destruction of the Valley and of his _life _needed to come to an end? "W-well, Oncie, I . . . I can't say that I would have ever . . . I . . . " halfway through the sentence, she sighed and gave up trying to come up with a witty response, instead letting the tears roll down her cheeks as she stammered, "I-I really, really love you, you know that?"

His arms tightened around her, just a fraction, and he made a soft noise in the back of his throat. It sounded like desperation, like raw exhaustion, and not for the first time Norma's stomach dropped as she remembered how frayed he must feel. "I-I know, I know, and . . . and I love you, too." He swallowed hard, pulling back just a little so that he could look her in the face. "How about the next time it takes me this long to realize something important, you just slap me in the face already so we can save ourselves some of this angsting, huh?" he joked, laughing quietly, the sound ringing a little unsteadily.

"Okay," she giggled in return, her face damp with tears. "Don't worry - I might actually take you seriously on that one." She reached up and shakily stroked his cheek, gazing adoringly into his eyes. "Can I just ask you something?" she asked curiously. "You've worked on those thneeds your whole life, Once-Ler. I-I mean, you've talked to me about how determined you were to break into the big time, and how you weren't just doing it for the money, you really thought that they could benefit people. A-and you're giving all that up? Your life's work? For me? I-I wouldn't want you to. Not entirely. Wh-what will you do about the thneeds?"

She bit her lower lip, hoping that she wasn't confusing him too greatly with her roundabout stance on things. After all, as much as she hated the idea of that wretched factory staying open to cut down more trees and destroy more of the valley, she also hated the idea of watching the Once-Ler give up everything he loved just to please her. What kind of relationship would that be, if they couldn't at the very least reach a compromise on the entire situation? Not a very healthy one, she would venture to say.

Looking just as determined as ever, he shook his head quickly and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her in for another lingering kiss. When he broke away, he said, both firmly and sheepishly at once, "Thaaaaat's what I wanted to talk to you about. L-look, Norma . . . I've been doin' a _lot _of thinking about this, and I've decided that . . . okay, I can't shut down my factory _all the way_ - I mean, a guy's gotta make a decent living somehow, right? B-but what I _can_ do is at least slow down production. No more biggering, not for a long, long time. Not until I finally get around to fixing those smog and runoff problems. And I'm gonna work so hard on that, Norma, you'll see. I-I want to fix things."

And Norma knew that when he said that he wanted to "fix things", she thought that he meant it. He looked sincere enough, and the Once-Ler had the sort of personality where it was very easy to tell when he was stretching the truth, even in the slightest. He really wanted things to get better, and while he wasn't willing enough to shut down his factory entirely, she supposed that it was a good thing that he was at least willing to slow things down a bit. After all, just a few months ago when she had suggested that, he had dismissed it, saying that if he slowed down even just a little bit, then that would be enough for competitors to up their game and wipe him clean off the slate. The fact that he was now humbling himself and coming to her, asking for her help, admitting that he was at least partially wrong, was enough to make Norma's knees feel shaky and unsteady. Had she finally managed to make a point?

"I'll help you," she said as firmly as possible, nodding her head quickly. "You're not going to have to do all that alone. Don't you see? All I wanted from the beginning was for us to be on the same page - I've wanted to help you all along. A-and now I can because I finally see _how _I can. I'm right here." Placing her hands gingerly on his face, she stood on tiptoe and pressed a light, gentle kiss to his lips.

He returned the affection with warmth and longing, his fingers softly stroking the nape of her neck. When he broke the kiss, he pressed his forehead to hers, a smile breaking across his face as he murmured, "I want _you_, Norma. You know that now, right? I want _you_, not my money. And I've always tried to say that to you before, 'cause you mean more to me than . . . w-well, pretty much anything. But, well, I couldn't figure out a way to say it without being all mushy, a-and I dunno, now felt like as good a time as any . . . "

Norma giggled, unable to help herself. "Say it as often as you like," she told him, sighing wistfully as she tilted her head to stare into his eyes. "I know I always give you such a hard time about it, but the truth is, I could probably listen to you talk that way to me all day if I ever had the opportunity." She cleared her throat, looking down at her feet, embarrassed by this confession. Looking back up at him sheepishly through her lashes, she added softly, "And to answer your question . . . yes. Of course I know. I've always known. It shows more than you think."

"Oh, good," he said, a relieved smile broadening on his features, flooding his eyes with light. His expression turned only a little more serious when he added on, "I-I've just been worrying about that a little bit lately, y'know? That I haven't exaaaaactly been treating you . . . the best. Not nearly as good as I _should_ be treating you, at least. I mean, it's been bothering me for a while."

"Oncie," she breathed, "y-you don't owe me anything, you know that, right? I mean, you don't have to feel at all like you need to make it up to me."

"I-I know. I know you'd kill me if I ever tried," he conceded with a laugh and a swift nod of his head, blushing. "But _still_. I just wanted you to know that I'm not gonna keep pushing you away like that, okay? I mean, I've been doing a lot of thinking - a _lot _of thinking. And I guess it just hit me that maybe this thing where you don't agree with me but put up with me while I just do nothing about it isn't really a good thing. Shutting down my factory all the way wouldn't exactly be a possibility for me, but slowing down for a little bit is something that I can definitely do." He paused, drawing a breath, and then added, softening a little, "I almost _lost _you over this. I don't wanna do that again."

Norma shook her head, wrapping her arms gently around his neck. "You wouldn't have lost me. You don't have to worry about that. I was just _scared_ for you, don't you see? With this factory, it was just making you act like - I mean, it just wasn't _you_. But everything can be okay now. You'll see. This is nothing that we can't fix - together."

She could still see the shame on his face, and it made her heart twinge for a moment when she realized how dubious he was that he could make up for how he had treated her. In all honesty, she understood completely what he had been going through and didn't want to force him to apologize over and over again; she was ready to forgive and forget. She wished he could be, too. Out of all the people that she knew, the Once-Ler was the one person who was always unbelievably hard on himself. Even when he thought himself to be in the right, Norma could tell that there was always a lingering self-doubt there, no matter how much he tried to push it down. She only wished that she could help him become just as confident and secure inwardly as he seemed to be on the outside.

"Together," he repeated, nodding his head as firmly as he could manage. The grin on his face broadened, the look in his eyes becoming a bit more certain than it was before. Grasping her hands gently, he leaned in to press a soft kiss on her forehead. "That sounds like a plan to me. If you're up for the job, of course. I've heard I can be a real pain to work with, y'know." He laughed a little, looking down at her with a humorous quirk of his eyebrow, the smile on his face melting into a joking smirk.

Norma smirked in return, sliding her hands gently down to his chest. "I think I can handle it," she said, winking quickly. "It may be the toughest case that anyone's ever taken on before, but I think it's very much worth it." She drew him closer and kissed his cheek, enjoying their few precious moments of open affection, without the immediate threat of an argument ruining the moment, for once.

"You're my best friend," the Once-Ler said, his fingers idly playing in her curly hair as he continued raining soft, quick little kisses on her cheeks, nose, and eyelids."Y'know that? What in the world would I even do if I'd never met you?"

"Well, for one thing," she replied with a soft chuckle, ruffling his hair in return, "you wouldn't have a fedora. You know, I had half the mind to take it home with me that day and never speak to you again." She sighed wistfully, resting her head on his chest, closing her eyes and sinking into the comfort of his rhythmic heartbeat. "I'm very glad that I decided on the alternative that day instead."

"Norma. Please. Do I have to keep telling you? How many times have we been over this, sweetheart? Even if you hadn't given me my fedora back, I'm tall enough that I could've swiped it back from you," he laughed, nipping at her earlobe.

"Oh, yes," she joked, "how could I have forgotten?" Blushing, she smiled into his affection and kissed him softly on the lips in return, not even bothering any longer to worry about whether or not her family was secretly spying on her from the upstairs window. "It's a good thing that I really like tall men, then. Or, well, one really tall man in particular." She pressed her nose to his, having to keep herself on tiptoe to even hope to match his height.

He grinned widely, his hands now on the small of her back, and Norma realized how much she had sorely missed this, these moments of love and adoration between the two of them. Over the past few months, they had of course loved each other just as much as ever, but it had seemed like they hadn't had as much time for each other as the two of them might have liked. And then, of course, there was the matter of his factory, standing between the two of them like a great, ugly, impassable wall. It had permeated almost every one of their conversations, poisoning otherwise the sweeter memories that they could have made. (And Norma had to admit, most of the time, that was _her_ fault, not Oncie's.)

Laughing, his facial expression positively aglow with his typical boyish giddiness, he brushed back a stray lock of her hair and said, "You should've seen his face. It was a _riot!_ See, it's moments like that where being C.E.O. is the coolest job in the universe." He chuckled again, the anxious tension slipping from his shoulders. "I don't think we'll be hearin' from _him _anytime soon."

"Well, good!" exclaimed Norma, nodding her head firmly, her typical stubbornness and fiery personality coming into full play now. Still, she couldn't keep herself from grinning ear-to-ear as she added, "Who needs Arthur Wiggins? Right? You can get by just fine without him nosing around in your business's . . . well, _business_, if you ask me."

Looking torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to sink to his knees with relief, the Once-Ler seized her in a tight embrace, his long, lanky arms secure around her, more so than they'd ever been before. It occurred to Norma that maybe, despite all her reassurances, he was still fearful that she would leave him, and was trying to keep her tethered there with him for as long as possible. She reached up to gently stroke along the length of his spine, sighing softly, feeling her heart unclench when she heard his soft, low laughter, deep in his rib cage. At least if he was laughing, then he couldn't be _too _upset.

"I still can't believe that I came that close to just . . . just _losing _you 'cause of all this." He shuddered slightly, gathering his breath for a moment before speaking again. "I'm a huge idiot, d'you know that?" he asked, his fingers curling into the fabric of her clothing. He laughed again, shaking his head slightly.

Unable to help herself, Norma bit her lip and giggled, ruffling his hair playfully. "Hmm . . . I might've been aware of that already," she said teasingly, trying her best to keep the lighthearted note in their conversation. Of course, she was thrilled that the Once-Ler was finally willing to compromise, but she had never intended to make him feel this guilty about it all. "Thank you for reminding me, though," she added jokingly, kissing the crown of his head.

The two of them were silent for quite a while, just holding each other and reveling in the quietude. It had been a long time since they had held each other so closely, just like this, and Norma closed her eyes, wanting to memorize every single detail. She listened intently to the sound of his breathing, slow and steady, felt the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the slight lift to his shoulders with each inhalation. He was warm and soft against her, but his grip was firm and assuring. For the first time in a long time, he was no longer Mr. Onceler, Big-shot C.E.O. He was just plain old Oncie, the boy with the guitar that she had fallen in love with.

He was the first one to break the silence. He cleared his throat, almost seeming a little on the nervous side at first, straightening up from the hug slightly to look her in the eyes. His gaze was careful and measured, and she could tell immediately that he was thinking very hard about something important. "Hey, um . . . aaaaaaaaactually, that wasn't the only thing I wanted to talk to you about, Norma." A sheepish grin touched his mouth for just a few seconds, but did not quell her curiosity.

"Oh," said Norma, mildly surprised. She raised her eyebrows, folding her arms across her chest. "Well, what is it? Is there something else you needed to tell me?"

"Okay, uh . . . don't laugh." Though, as he said this, he let out an awkward chuckle, himself. Eyeing her uncetainly for a moment, he said a little uneasily, "Youuuu . . . _won't _laugh, will you? Even if you think it's totally stupid and crazy? I-I mean, you can tell me if it is, I won't mind, just . . . don't laugh, alright?" That old familiar light pink blush came back to his cheeks, and he rubbed the back of his neck slowly.

She shook her head quickly. "Of course I'm not going to laugh at you! What would make you think that?" After all, she knew she could be a bit on the abrasive side sometimes, but she would never make fun of the Once-Ler for telling her anything, especially given the amount of trust that he granted her with. Reaching forward slightly, she brushed back his bangs from his eyes, softening her tone as she added, "Tell me whatever's on your mind. Okay? I'm right here listening, and I promise, noooooo laughing here."

Gratitude bright in his eyes, he nodded his head in return and, after taking a deep breath to steady himself, reached for her hand. He laced his long, slender, guitar-callused fingers through hers, stroking his thumb along the smoothness of the outside of her hand. His gaze was intent, but still warm and soft, inviting. She knew that whenever he got like this, so serious and thoughtful, that something was definitely on his mind, but she couldn't imagine what. Getting the sense that a bit more privacy was required for this part of their conversation, she glanced over her shoulder into the living room, making sure that none of her family (more specifically, Jean) had snuck downstairs to listen. She then moved out of her house and joined him on the porch, at last allowing the door to swing shut. Still holding onto his hand, she led him along the left side of the house to the back patio, and the two of them sat down on the wooden bench next to the flower-bed.

When Oncie had at last settled into his seat, he sighed, and, giving her hand a squeeze, said, "'Kay, well . . . this is something that I've been thinking about for a loooooong, long time. I mean a _really _long time. Um . . . I don't exactly know how to even say this . . . " he bit his lower lip, searching for his words in the momentary silence that followed. "I think it'd be really cool if . . . I mean, what I'm trying to say is . . . okay, sorry if this is awkward or anything, but . . . I was wondering if you might wanna move in with me, Norma."

Norma's eyes widened, her stomach first leaping up into her throat, then somersaulting all the way down to her toes before dizzily fumbling back into place. Her head seemed to spin as she tried to comprehend what he had just asked her. Move _in _with him? As in . . . living together? She knew that they were a serious couple, and both loved one another very much, but it was still hard to imagine herself taking a step like that so soon. Was she really ready to leave behind the safety and security of her own home and share a house with a man like the Once-Ler? What would her family think? Especially after she had already spent the night with him once. Of course, she was nearing twenty years old now, certainly old enough to make these decisions if she wished, but it still felt strange. She couldn't imagine herself not living in the same house as her family this _soon_. It was all that she knew.

The look on her face must have reflected her shock and confusion, because the nervous smile on the Once-Ler's face almost instantly turned into a pained, flustered, deeply embarrassed expression. His cheeks, if possible, flushed an even darker shade of crimson, and he took his hand away from Norma's as if her touch had burned him. His eyes, too, lookd very wide and glassy, and she could tell that he was trying very quickly to backpedal, and find a way around the situation.

"O-Oh," he stammered, misinterpreting her facial expression. "I'm sorry. I guess I, uh . . . " he laughed, though the sound was shaky, disjointed, and without humor. "I guess I shouldn't have asked you so soon, huh? I-I didn't mean to . . . I mean, I hope I didn't offend you or anything." He sighed in frustration and defeat. "That didn't scare you away, did it?"

"Oh, no!" gasped Norma, holding up her hands and shaking her head, blushing darkly, as well. "Oncie, no! It's not like that! Calm down. I'm not offended at all, I promise. I'm just . . . um . . . well, to be honest, a little _surprised_! A _lot _surprised, actually. I-I mean, surprised in a good way. It's just that, I hadn't planned on this happening so soon. I've always wanted it, for maybe in the future, but I hadn't put much thought into it right now." She put her hand to her forehead, drinking it all in. "Move in with you," she repeated softly. "Wow. I, uh . . . I-I don't know what to say!" she glanced back at him with a hopeful smile. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

He nodded quickly, his shoulders losing their tension as his face flooded with visible relief. Leaning forward, he gently clutched both of her wrists, his eyes never for a second losing their vibrance as he responded, "_Yes_. Of course. I-I'm positive it's what I want. I really, _really _love you, Norma. And . . . and I don't know, I just feel like it might be good for us to go for it, y'know? I mean, if . . . if that's what _you _want."

"I . . . " her voice trailed off, and she bit her lip, hesitating for just a moment.

She wanted so badly to be able to say immediately that yes, she did want to move in with him, but she couldn't allow herself to do such a thing. Not until she'd thought it over at least a little bit. She wouldn't want to make such an impulsive decision, only to decide when it was too late that the situation didn't suit them. That would hurt not only her, but Oncie as well, and she surely didn't want that. He didn't deserve to have more problems dumped onto his shoulders just because they didn't approach the proposal from as many angles as possible. After all, it was easy to accept such an offer on the spur of the moment. But Norma had always been analytical to a fault, and right now was no exception. There were a great many things to think over.

What would her family think of this? She couldn't imagine that they would approve; they had always been fiercely protective of her. _Too_ protective. Then again, she had the legal right to make her own choices now, didn't she? But did that excuse going against their wishes? It was a difficult place to be, she had to admit. As much as she loved the Once-Ler, she had to wonder whether or not she could truly see herself taking such a step anytime soon. She _thought _she could, but she refused to make such a hasty decision over something so important.

She looked into his eyes, sighing softly as she measured the trust, the unabashed adoration in his gaze. She wished she could be more like him right now, so _ready_ and eager to move forward. He had always been like that, never one to be content with staying in one place for too long. Constantly moving around. Norma just couldn't be sure if moving so fast was really in the cards for them right now - they had a good thing with this relationship, and she didn't want to even remotely run the risk of ruining it. _Would _they be ruining it? Or saving it?

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she nodded her head slowly, clamping her lips together with nervousness. Today was her day to be more like the Once-Ler. It was time to just trust in both herself and in him, and for once just leap without looking. It couldn't be bad to be a little carefree _sometimes_, right?

"Yes," she announced proudly, with a wide grin so bright that it made her cheeks ache a little. "I-I think it _is _what I want! Actually, I . . . I _know _it is." Leaning forward, she laced her fingers through his and nodded swiftly, half to reassure herself so that she wouldn't chicken out of it. "Okay, then. I-I . . . I wanna move in with you!" she laughed giddily. His hands were shaking in her grip now, and she had to admit, she was feeling a little trembly, herself. Eyes widening behind her spectacles, she squealed and said again, "I wanna move in with you, Oncie!"

He laughed, as well, hardly able to believe it, himself. "You mean it?!" he cried, a little breathlessly, his cheeks flooded with vibrance and color. "You really wanna - you're agreeing with me? You wanna move in with me?" She nodded again, and he cheered, immediately swooping her in for another firm, celebratory kiss on the mouth. When they broke apart, he gave her a wide, boyish smile, then asked, a little nervously, "You really want this, right? You're not just saying so to keep from hurting my feelings or something?"

She paused for a moment, her gaze softening and turning just a bit more serious. In her grave little way, she reached up and placed her hands on his soft, smooth face, her thumbs stroking his cheekbones. Pressing her forehead to his, she murmured, "Of course I really mean it. I'm not the sort of person who makes decisions like this out of pity - you know that." She offered him a small smirk to lighten the mood a little, then added softly, "I love you. I-I know we haven't gotten along perfectly for the past few months, but please, please, don't ever doubt that, okay? I love you."

The smile returned to his features, full-fledge by now. "I love you, too," he whispered. It was the first time she had ever heard him speak so softly to her, but the tenderness was still there in his voice, his whole body thrumming with his usual energy. Letting out a soft chuckle, he mumbled, "This is gonna be _great_, Norma, you'll see. Best decision we ever made. It'll kinda be like being . . . y'know, _pre-engaged_ or something!"

Norma grinned, but the action was for the most part superficial. Pre-engaged to the Once-Ler. To the man responsible for all this destruction. She could only hope that he really _did _mean it when he said that he was slowing his factory down, but she knew him well enough to understand that his mind worked on a whim. How long would it be, she wondered, before he realized that a slow-paced factory wasn't enough for him? She wanted to believe that he could keep his promise, but there was still the lingering doubt in the back of her mind that told her all this happiness wouldn't last for long.

She clung to him more tightly, and hoped for him to prove her wrong.


	20. Chapter Twenty: Worth the Wait

The Once-Ler stepped through the door to his bedroom and immediately frowned.

The room was a cluttered mess, and he hadn't anticipated it one bit. Clothes were strewn everywhere; some of his shirts hung over the metal headboard (still dented from the dreaded "river" incident); there were shoes tossed haphazardly all over the floor, and several striped green ties; a pile of pants had started to accumulate close to the closet. He supposed that he had just been so tired getting home from work every evening, it hadn't even crossed his mind to be neat about changing into his pajamas and plopping into bed.

Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, he glanced around and visibly cringed. Just two months ago, when Norma had last come to visit him and they'd had that fateful argument in the kitchen, his house hadn't been so messy. He'd been hard at work in the time that followed, however, and so hadn't had much time to pay attention to the fact that the disheveled, unorganized garbage was beginning to pile up. He'd been spending a little more time at home since his factory had slowed production, of course, but he still hadn't had enough time on his hands to decently clean his own house. It must have been one of the many things that managed to slip his mind when he had thneeds on the brain.

"Sorry, um, about the mess and all," he winced, turning to Norma to gauge her reaction. "I probably should've come home and at least straightened up around her a little bit, buuuut . . . I don't know, I guess I forgot all about it. Here, let me . . . uh, lemme clean up some of this stuff for you."

He darted forward, bustling around the room as if there were rockets on the bottoms of his shoes. Norma stood behind him in the doorway of the bedroom, and though he couldn't see her as he shuffled around to scoop up rumpled clothing and shoot them like basketballs into the laundry hamper, he could hear her stifling lighthearted laughter. His face darkened with embarrassment as he caught sight of a pair of his boxers lying discarded on the ground, probably from weeks ago. Snatching them up quickly before Norma could see, he threw them into the basket along with the rest of the dirty clothes. A man on a mission.

"No, no, don't worry about it, Oncie," she chuckled, ambling into the room. At her voice, he snapped to attention, turning over his shoulder slightly to face her as she spoke. "It's perfectly fine with me. Actually, I sort of . . . " she glanced around contemplatively, then said, "_like _that it looks lived-in like this."

Pausing in all his flustered movements, he dropped the shirt that he was holding onto the floor with surprise. "Yoooooouuu . . . you _do_?" He cocked his head to the side slightly, bemused by this reception. "I always took you for kind of a neat freak, though - I mean, no offense, but the first time you were here, you sat on my bed and folded up all my socks for hours."

Heading a little farther into the room, Norma giggled, shut the bedroom door with her foot, and shrugged her shoulders. She gave the place a cursory glance, her eyes wide and questing. In her hand she held a brown duffel bag, filled with all the clothes she could possibly fit; they had finished putting away all her toiletries and trinkets that she had brought along with her earlier, but they had yet to begin the task of unpacking her backs and straightening out his closet. That one seemed a bit too arduous, at least for their first day sharing a home together.

They actually hadn't wanted to wait two months before moving in together. Once-Ler and Norma both had been eager to start their new life together as soon as possible, and as such, had broken the news to her parents as swiftly as they could manage. Of course, the suggestion had been met with mixed approval. Actually, the only real approval had come from Norma's little sister, who had gotten in her fair share of teasing, as well. After a good deal of reasoning and pleading, Norma's parents had at last conceded, but one the condition that they had to wait at least two months before acting on their idea. Just to be sure that they weren't just acting on a whim. And then, two months had passed by in a flash, and the idea had still sounded just as wonderful as it had back when they had first suggested it. The rest was, as they say, history.

"Well," she said softly, setting own her duffel bag at her feet, reaching over to gently brush her hand against his shoulder. "That was before this was my house, too. And now it _is_! Soooo . . . " she sighed wonderingly, a grin playing on her features as she studied the room with a careful curiosity, "I think one's point-of-view can change depending on the situation."

The Once-Ler let out a shy, nervous laugh, blushing so forcefully by now that even the tips of his ears were darkened. Even after having two whole months to prepare himself mentally for living with his first _serious _girlfriend, it was still almost unbelievable to him. He was sharing a house with somebody now, somebody who wasn't related to him. That was _weird_, to say the least. He would have to learn, he told himself, how girls liked to keep their houses running. Maybe she would be neater than him, or maybe the two of them could live contently in comfortable disarray. He would have to learn how to share his dwelling place with another _person_. That was just wild!

She turned him around to face her completely now, her hand still light on his shoulder. She offered him a shy little smile, sliding her hands up to lace around his neck, pulling his warmth just a bit closer to her. The Once-Ler grinned as confidently as he could manage, pushing a lock of stray hair behind her ear. Her brown eyes were bright and intelligent, even in the darkness of the room. He could feel his heartbeat pounding a steady, consistent rhythm against his rib cage, not fast, just hard and heavy. _Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump. _

Gulping, he hoped desperately that she couldn't hear it, despite how loud it felt to him; he knew that she could tell that he was nervous, she could _always _tell that. But he hoped that perhaps the dimness of the lighting in their setting would mask just _how _nervous he really was. The Once-Ler didn't know what he ought to do now. What was it that couples normally did when the moving in was all through, and both of them were tired after a long day's work and wanted to just settle in and enjoy their new steady style of togetherness? After all, he'd never been with a girl like _this _before, knowing that his belongings were now hers and hers were his, as well. It was . . . odd. But in a good way. Definitely a good way.

"Is something wrong?" Norma asked, breaking the silence. She fixed her curious stare on the Once-Ler, and he knew immediately that she'd figured him out. _Of course_.

He let out an airy little laugh, attemping - and failing - to sound politely casual. "Me? Oh. Pffft. No, of course not. I'm totally good here! Fit as a fiddle." He nodded briskly, assuming his usual determined posture and firm stance that he used when trying to get his point across. His expression softened, however, for just an instant, his muscles relaxing long enough for him to mumble, "Um, just curious, though - what makes you think something's wrong with me?"

"For one thing, you're as tense as piano wire," said Norma with a knowing smirk. Stroking the back of his neck comfortingly, her features lightened a bit as she leaned in to very gently press a kiss against his cheek. "I know you don't get nervous about very much at all, so it must be important. Is it something you can tell me?"

She rested her head against the hollow of his shoulder, at the spot where his neck curved alongside his collarbone. The scent of her shampoo was crisp and clean, right against his nostrils, but it was at least a pleasant scent. Not at all like that acrid vanilla fragrance his mother wore. He sighed contentedly, and nuzzled against her, dropping a quick kiss against the crown of her head. It felt so normal, so natural and comfortable. He had to wonder for a moment or two just what he had gotten so worked up over. Living together couldn't be _so _nerve-wracking, could it? If little moments like these felt so good, then their everyday lives should follow suit.

He bit his tongue for a second, wondering where he ought to begin. There was so much that he felt he needed to say, after all. Finally, he took the simplest route and decided upon, "Well, I just . . . aaahh . . . " he looked away sheepishly for a moment, then back to her, his cheeks reddening. "I guess I've just got, uh . . . y'know, the jitters. I mean, it's not like this is the first time you've seen me in my pajamas or with bed-head or when I'm brushing my teeth, but . . . it feels different now and I don't get _why_ it does, but it just . . . does." He clapped his hand to his forehead with frustration. "Sorry," he muttered. "I'm not making much sense, am I?"

Norma sighed patiently, holding onto him even more tightly. Encouraged by this, he lowered his hands, resting them comfortably on her hips as she said, "Hmm, about as much sense as you usually make, darling." He could practically _hear_ the triumphant, humorous smile on her face in her voice, as well. Growing a bit more serious, she added with almost maternal softness, "I think I understand what you're saying. Don't worry. If it makes you feel any better, I'm . . . I'm a little bit nervous, too. But not in a bad way, it's just . . . you're right, it _does _feel different." Biting her lip, she looked up at him excitedly. "Maybe that's a good thing though. I don't think either of us has anything to worry about."

He leaned in, kissing her lips slowly. The tension in his muscles fell away gradually as he mumbled, "I think you're right. I mean . . . this is what I want, more than anything. A-and it's what you want, too, right?" When Norma nodded his head, he grinned widely and added, "Then that settles it! We don't need to be afraid of it, 'cause it was bound to happen with us one of these days anyway! This is - this is good! Right! Um . . . " he paused for a moment, searching for the right words, and when he couldn't figure out precisely what he wanted to say, he leaned in and kissed her again, square on the mouth. "I love you!" he declared promptly, more assuredly than he ever had before.

"I love _you_," said Norma. "More than anything. There's no need for you to ever," she punctuated this with a swift kiss on the tip of his nose, "_ever_," another kiss, this time in the space between his eyes, "be nervous around me. For any reason at all. This is just as much my first time living with someone . . . _un_-related to me as it is yours. So there's nothing that you need to get worked up over." She stroked her hand through his bangs, the smile on her face widening. "Personally, I think you're doing a wonderful job with it so far."

The Once-Ler gave a snorting laugh, trailing a line of soft, heated little kisses along her jawline, down her neck. "Are you kidding me? I think I'm the lucky one here. You're the one who drew the short end of the straw and moved in with the guy who wears bunny pajamas."

His face heated up with a flustered sort of embarrassment; he had never been at all self-conscious about his more childlike habits, and that certainly wasn't about to change anytime soon. But for some reason, even though self-depracation was the sort of humor he was most prone to (given his history with his family, it only made sense), he couldn't help but be a little anxious about Norma's reaction. She had seen the pajamas before, so he wasn't really so much worried about _that_ specifically. It was more of a general concern. What if, when she really got to know him, after a few months or so, she grew to find his living habits completely detestable? What if she got so fed up or annoyed with him that she someday decided living with him wasn't in her best interest? What then?

"Oh, Once-Ler," she sighed, running her hand slowly up and down the length of his spine. As he straightened up to look her in the eyes, she reached out and grazed her thumb along his cheekbone, her busy hands finally coming to rest steadily on his chest. Fixing him with a wide-eyed, soft but serious gaze, she said quietly, "Sometimes you can be so mean to you. And, well . . . you just don't deserve that." She shook her head quickly. "I wish you wouldn't be so self-deprecating. Don't you see that I love you? Honestly, it hurts me to hear you talking about yourself like . . . like you just don't matter."

He gave her an awkward, unafflicted smile, his cheeks glowing. Shrugging slightly, he cleared his throat and mumbled, "I-I was just jokin' around, Norma. It's nothin'. Nothing to worry about." Looking into her eyes, he tried to make the look on his face a little more reassuring; it worked, but the action itself was a little strained. Sensing her dismay, he gave her a crooked grin, elbowing her mischievously and saying, "Hey. Love yooooou."

Her facial expression softened, and for a moment, he thought she might have given in and just decided to drop it. If he knew Norma, though, he understood better than perhaps anyone else that issues, with her, were never always just _dropped_. "Yes," she conceded, nodding and kissing his cheek. "I know you were kidding. And I love you too. But I wish that you would love _you_ a little bit more, too." Pulling him in for a tight embrace, she murmured, head on his chest, "That way you act in front of the cameras, like you own the world and everything in it and just _know _you're the best . . . that's all an act. A-and believe me, I don't want you to be like that, either, I just . . . want you to realize how special you are."

"Hey, hey," he began quietly, reassuringly, cradling her as tightly against his body as he could manage without it being painful for either of them. Kissing her forehead, he said, "Don't worry, Norma. You don't need to get so upset. 'Cause the thing is, I-I _do _realize it. I didn't until I met you, but . . . don't you understand you're the one that gave that to me? Sure, selling thneeds is great. I love my job. And I did feel better about everything once I finally got one of the stupid things sold in the first place, but . . . without you, I would've given up on all of that a long, looooong time ago. I never woulda realized . . . so much stuff that _you_ taught me."

"Same here," she replied, wrapping her arms around his skinny waist, swaying gently as they clung so deperately to each other. "I mean . . . I was never really a timid thing, of course, but . . . but I was always too _careful_. And then I met you that day, and I decided to just make a casual business deal with a boy I'd never even met, and I just wasn't used to being spontaneous!" She laughed lightheartedly, the sound that the Once-Ler loved more than anything in the world, and said, "I'd always wanted to just do something spur-of-the-moment like that, you know, and giving you your hat back that day just seemed like the perfect opportunity. And then when I got to know you, you taught me how to just be _carefree_."

Once-Ler laughed this time, nudging her playfully, screwing up his features in playful distaste. "Oh, geez, Norma," he joked, wrinkling his nose. "And you're always warning _me_ about getting too cheesy!" He smirked teasingly down at her, laughing some more as he added with a broad grin, "But you knoooooow, I don't exactly hear you showering me with praise all the time, soooo . . . _maybe _I can let it slide this time around. Juuuust maybe!" He stroked his finger slowly, lightly down the bridge of her nose, ending his sentence with another kiss to the space between her eyes.

"Oh, well, how kind of you," said Norma, giggling. She nipped at his nose, chuckling at his momentarily bemused reaction. "I just figured that I ought to give you a taste of your own medicine. Not so fun having to listen to all that mushy, goopy nonsense, is it?" But he could tell by the glinting in her brown eyes that she meant the exact opposite. She winked at him quickly, eliciting a low, soft laugh from him once again.

"It's terrible," he replied, with that same humor in his voice. "Totally. Just _terrible._" He scooped her into his arms and kissed her again, this time allowing his tongue to flick gently against her front teeth for just a moment. "I don't know, maybe you ought to keep talking like that, though, y'know. Just to get it out of your system." He kissed her cheek quickly. "After all, we are gonna be _living _with each other from now on. We might need to get used to that cheesy talk, or else just get it all out right now."

Placing her arms around his neck once again, she nuzzled against his neck and sighed contentedly. "Hmm, good point," she conceded, smiling and closing her eyes as she melted into the moment. "At this rate, we might just not ever shut up about each other. But y'know, I think I'd probably be alright with that. What do you think about all that?"

"Yeah," he murmured, closing his eyes, as well, running his hands gently along her back. "I think I'd be okay with it, too. Actually, I'd _definitely _be okay with it." He fell silent for a while, just reveling in her warmth, in being near to her. It was the first time in months that they had been really, truly alone, and he didn't want to waste a second of it by babbling away. Usually, he enjoyed their banter, but right now, the silence was just as precious to him. Eventually, though, he broke it by saying softly, "Sooooo. Our first hours as a live-in couple have _begun_. Um, whaddaya wanna do?"

Norma paused, thinking this over for a second. "Oh," she said, shrugging. "I don't know. What do other couples usually do right now? Clip coupons together and watch 'Three's Company', maybe?"

"Hah. Sounds good," Oncie responded, ruffling her hair playfully. "Oooooooor, you know, I do have something else up my sleeve that we could give a try." A devilish grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, his eyes dancing with boyish mischief. "Wait right here. If I know you as well as I think I do, Norma, you'll totally love this. This'll be the first time you've experienced firsthand my excellent taste in music. I mean, you know, as far as songs that I didn't write myself go."

He pulled away from her now, moving across the room. Beside his bed, there was a small table with two drawers; the first held his socks, but the bottom shelf was entirely devoted to his life's passion: music. He had taken countless CDs and casette tapes with him on his journey away from home, and had actually used a good deal of the money that he received from his new, handsome CEO's paycheck to feed his music addiction. (He had gone a little overboard at the music store in downtown Greenville, completely splurged and bought more albums than his little music drawer could hold. Those he kept stored in his office, alongside his brand-new, glossy Bose surround-sound stereo system.)

The Once-Ler tugged open the bottom drawer with a grunt - it was always a difficult task, because the drawer itself was so full that it often jammed shut. Once it was open enough for him to take a look at all the albums and endless choices in front of him, he bit his lip and began to rummage. In the darkness of his bedroom, it was a little difficult to read the names on some of the covers of the CDs. He had to lift a few of them up close to eye level just to be able to pick out what band or artist it was.

"Oncie?" Norma questioned, highly amused by his sudden spastic energy. It always seemed to crop up at the weirdest moments; just seconds ago, they had been so tenderly embracing each other, and now he was hopping around, looking through his music. "What are you doing, exactly?"

"Yooooooouuu'll seeeeee," he replied in sing-song, still half-bent over the collection of music. "I promise you, when I find what I'm looking for, it won't disappoint." He clicked his tongue impatiently, still sifting through music. At last, he reached the album that he had been looking for, holding it up triumphantly in his hand. Norma narrowed her eyes; she couldn't see it in the dark, but she thought it looked like a Paul McCartney album. "Ah-_ha_!" he exclaimed, standing up and moving to the tiny CD player sitting on the table nearby (also new). "Here we go. Alrighty. Prepare to be swept off your feet."

"Ohoho, getting a little cocky, are we?" Norma smirked, folding her arms neatly across her chest.

"Maybe," he responded with out missing a beat. "Just a little bit. Okay, seriously, now, listen to this song. It's one of my favorites."

Quickly, he turned on the CD player, popping in the CD that he had chosen. He set down the album itself with a clatter of hard plastic against the wooden table. Norma peered more closely at it and couldn't help but smile; yes, definitely a Paul McCartney album. Her father liked to listen to him, too. Oncie mashed down repeatedly on a button on the CD player until he found the track that he wanted, then smiled contentedly, scurrying back to Norma's side. The song blossomed into being, filling the silence and thickening the space between them with the strains of soft, slow trinkling of piano keys, a smooth sound almost like a lullaby. He grinned from ear-to-ear, one of those famous Once-Ler smiles that could stop traffic with its brightness.

"Well?" he asked, holding out his arms expectantly, lifting his eyebrows. "D'you, um . . . you wanna dance with me, Norma?"

He watched as her eyes brightened, the blush on her face intensifying slowly. She nodded her head, then reached out for his hands, smiling as broadly as he'd ever seen her smile before. In the dying light, she looked more beautiful than she had ever been before; they were together now, really together, and now that there was no longer that nasty factory business looming between the two of them, they were free to enjoy each other's company as any other couple would. She grabbed his left hand, and they held it in the air; her other hand went to his shoulder, resting lithely against the curve of his neck, and his free hand went to her waist, Waltz position.

"That sounds wonderful," she said, laughing. "But, can I ask you what song we're dancing to here? I don't think I've ever heard this one before."

"What?" he cried, aghast. "You've _never_ - ohooooookaaaaay, Norma. Education time. This, for your information, is the Paul McCartney classic, _Silly Love Songs_." He gave her a wide grin, winking. "I thought it fit the occassion pretty well, huh?"

They swayed slowly in an awkward, tiny circle in the middle of the room, their feet barely moving. The entire setup, a young couple dancing to an old love song in the middle of the bedroom and chatting to each other as if nothing had changed, would have looked entirely batty to any onlookers, he was sure. But the Once-Ler was also a little impressed with his gesture; he had never really been a naturally suave gentleman, so he was always overly-proud of himself when he managed to do something romantic or impressively grand. Judging by the look on Norma's face, this move had been a success. He made a mental note to pat himself on the back for that later.

"It's lovely," said Norma as they continued to revolve in that same slow, steady circle, positively beaming. "But, I was just thinking something. Do you know what would make this song even better?" she bit her lip, hesitating for just a beat before saying softly, "If you sang it for me. It's a pretty song, but I think I like your voice much better."

"Really? My voice over Paul McCartney's? Norma, you don't know how you're blaspheming right now," he answered humorously, blinking with surprise, blushing involuntarily.

If there was one thing he was never modest about, it was his singing voice . . . usually; but Norma's compliment had taken him by surprise. Especially when he considered the fact that she hadn't liked his music at all when they had first met over a year ago. And now here she was, asking him to sing for her. She had never requested that he do that before; he had to admit, though, he was a big fan of the idea.

Grinning all over his face, he nodded swiftly and added, "Uh, anyways, y-yeah! I totally will, if you want me too! Okay, here goes . . . " he cleared his throat experimentally, listening to the music to find a phrase he could jump in on smoothly. "_Love doesn't come in a minute . . . sometimes it doesn't come at all . . . I only know that when I'm in it - it isn't silly, no it isn't silly - love isn't silly at all . . . _"

When he looked down at Norma, he gave a start as he noticed that her eyes were filling up with tears. He cut the last note that he had been holding a little short - not something he would usually do, but this was serious - and gave her a questioning glance, his mouth forming the syllables necessary to ask her what was wrong. Before he could even get the words out, though, she gave him a watery smile and shook her head, laughing shakily.

"N-no, no, nothing's wrong, Once-Ler," she told him reassuringly, her voice a little thick and disjointed from her crying. "It's just, I, um . . . I really love . . . this song." She removed her hand from his shoulder for just a moment, to swipe away the tears, then put it back in the proper dance position, adding on, "Or at least, I-I love it with you singing along. I love _you_."

"Loooooove you too," he responded with his typical goofiness, leaning down to kiss her cheek swiftly. When he was down close by her ear, he whispered a little more tenderly, "And I really mean that, y'know that? I-I know sometimes I can get carried away and - and end up saying stuff I don't really mean, but I really, really love you. A lot."

"I know you do," she answered, nodding firmly. "And I believe you, don't worry. I always have. I always will, too." Brushing back his bangs with affection, she said, "I love you, bunny pajamas and all."

He laughed softly, and the two of them continued their awkward little twirling circle to the beat of the music. It was like how he had always imagined a slow dance at prom to be; he had never gone himself, because he hadn't found a date and hadn't wanted to face the embarrassment that the other kids would have provided him with had he shown up alone; but he had thought that it would be something like this. Just he and Norma, and nothing else in the whole world to bother them. The song propelled them into a blissful togetherness; occassionally he hummed along to the tune, but for the most part the two of them were silent, just enjoying being with one another. It was a rare gift, for both of them to be quiet for so long, but one that both of them certainly appreciated.

In the quietude, the Once-Ler listened to the melodious strains of the song, finding meaning in each chord, every note. This one, he thought, really was quite perfect for the two of them. It was their little game that they poke fun at one another for being cheesy, so Oncie decided to retaliate with a song all _about _cheesiness. He loved that it seemed to say, "What's the matter with a little mushy-gushy goopiness every once in a while?" He had hoped that Norma would find the song's lyrics as apt as he did; judging by the look on her face, it looked like she certainly did.

When the song ended, Norma gave him a soft smile, sliding her hands to the lapels of his jacket. He gasped in surprise as she pulled him slowly down to her level, her mouth meeting his in a firm, but still somehow gentle at the same time, kiss. His hands wound around her waist, pulling her tightly to him, a soft noise lifting from the back of his throat. By the time they pulled away, the next song on the album had started to play, this one considerably noisier and pop-sounding than the last one had been. Breathless, red-faced, and giddy, the Once-Ler gave an unsteady little laugh before ambling over to the CD player, turning it off with the swift push of a button.

"Speaking of pajamas," he said, continuing the conversation that they had cut short while listening to the song, "maybe we oughta put ours on now. It _is _getting pretty late, and I've got work tomorrow. You wanna get some sleep?" He gave her a quick once-over, fixing her with a sympathetic stare. "You look as tired as I feel."

Norma stifled a yawn, nodding slowly in agreement. "Yeah, now that you mention it, I am pretty beat," she said. "It's been a long day of . . . packing and unpacking and all that great stuff." She bit her lower lip, smiling at him coyly before she moved to her duffel bag, digging for her pajamas. When she found what she was looking for, she pulled the nightclothes out of the bag and laid them out on the bed with a sigh. "Here we go."

Without any further preamble, she shucked off her blouse, tossing it to the side. She had never been one to be particularly shy, and out of mere habit, she slipped out of her skirt without much awkwardness. For a moment or two, she forgot that this wasn't just _her_ room anymore, that she was sharing it with a _man_ whom she happened to be seriously dating. And she might be coming dangerously close to just taunting the poor man with her brazen attitudes.

"N-Norma!" the Once-Ler sputtered incredulously, his face reddening to an all-new level. His eyes widened almost cartoonishly, and he turned on his heel to face the wall and avoid staring at her - a fraction of a second too late. He didn't want to appear completely lecherous, so he clapped his hands firmly over his eyes, as if that would help things. "Darling, please. You have _got _to let me know when you're gonna start changing in front of me, okay? J-just gimme a heads-up next time you wanna strip down like that."

Unable to help herself, Norma giggled as she stepped into her fluffy pajama bottoms. "Weeeeeell, if it makes you feel any better, I wasn't _completely _naked," she joked, trying to lighten the mood. When he gave her a flat, somewhat stiff laugh in return, she grew a bit more serious. "Sorry, Oncie," she apologized, feeling the apples of her cheeks turn pink, as well. She slipped into her oversized grey sleep shirt next, and sighed, saying tentatively, "Okay, you can turn around now. I didn't mean to surprise you. I guess I'm just gonna have to get used to this whole . . . together thing."

He turned around a little reluctantly, relaxing as he saw that she was heading for the bed, fully clothed again. Once-Ler softened a bit, his shoulders losing their tension, and he offered her a tiny, rueful grin. Shrugging, he laughed more genuinely this time and replied, "Nah, it's okay. Um, I-I just, uh . . . didn't wanna be . . . _weird _or anything. I didn't mean to be a, um . . . a stick-in-the-mud or anything like that." He laughed again, somewhat awkwardly, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uhhh, I'm just gonna get dressed now. Ahaha."

"'Kay," said Norma, sliding underneath the blankets and snuggling in comfortably. She gave him a playful, almost childlike grin. "You do that, Oncie."

He stood there awkwardly in place for several long seconds, holding his pajamas in his arms. Rocking nervously back and forth on the balls of his feet and his heels, he bit his lower lip and glanced around the room. He didn't exactly know why he was so _nervous _around Norma all of the sudden. After all, it wasn't as if anything between them had really changed. They were the same couple that they always had been; the only difference was that they were living together. And yet now, all of the sudden, his hands were just as shaky around her as they had been before they were a couple; the nervousness was back full-fledged now. He had never really been the prudish sort of person before, and now he was all flustered _this _easily? He supposed he was just trying so hard to be good to Norma, he was making himself a little too tense in the process.

Without another word, he exhaled through his mouth, his hands going to his tie. He tried to change as quickly as possible, and as he shed his clothing, he shed his modesty, as well. Oncie did his best to ignore the flaming blush on his face, bleeding down onto his neck, as he wriggled out of his shirt, his eyes darting all over the room, unable to focus on one place in his embarrassment. Finally, _thankfully_, he was dressed in his pajamas, and all that was left to do was button up his top. His fingers fumbled slightly with the buttons, since his hands were trembling slightly.

_Oh, get a grip, will you_? he scolded himself, almost tempted to roll his eyes at his own behavior. _Don't be such a baby. I know you've got a backbone - use it._

"Okay!" he exclaimed triumphantly when at last those meddlesome buttons had been taken care of. "And theeeeeere we go. So, I guess it's time to hit the hay." He yawned, shaking his head slightly, and headed for the bed, sliding in beside Norma. Giving her a humorous smile, he elbowed her gently and added, "Love you."

She giggled, poking him in the rib cage in return. "I love you, too," she answered, wrinkling her nose playfully. "You goofball."

Laughing good-naturedly, he reached beneath the sheets and grabbed her hand gently, lacing his fingers through hers and giving her hand a quick, tight squeeze. "Hmm . . . y'know, we could just sit up and talk for a little while if you want. Y'know. Just hang out. Like old times, except . . . in our pj's." He gave another chuckle, waggling his toes before nudging her jokingly. "Listen, I'm . . . _really _glad you're here, Norma."

She smiled at him and squeezed in response, then leaned across to brush a soft, tender kiss against his cheek, then moving to nip the tip of his ear. "Really? Well, that's perfect, because I'm really glad that I'm here, too. I mean, who _else_ is going to keep your sock drawer sooooo incredibly organized and pretty, right?" she winked, breaking into soft giggles as she ran her fingers slowly through his hair.

"I know, right?" he answered, rolling his eyes playfully. "You're a lifesaver, oh beautiful darling love of my life."

Norma smirked, pleased. "Well, I'm very happy to hear that."

There was another long but comfortable silence between them. They met each other's gaze, and for the first time, both of them really seemed to _see_ what was there. No walls, no guard, just complete vulnerability and trust. He blushed, shifting his position slightly so that he could lean in and press his lips to hers, smiling into the kiss. His hands found their way into her hair, and her fingers stroked the nape of his neck. Still, as ordinary as this one moment was (they'd kissed numerous times before, so there was nothing particularly special about it), there was something . . . _different_ about this one. And he couldn't quite place what it was.

Something in him drove him forward, and he deepened the kiss, his eyes tightly closed, his tongue arching against the roof of her mouth. Norma made an encouraging noise in the back of her throat - something he'd never heard from her before - and suddenly her arms were tight around him, and the two of them were wound together like vines reaching for sunlight. The bedsheets rustled as they moved around, Once-Ler leaning across so that Norma was lying bcak against the pillows and he was half atop her, and half beside her. Her fingers buried in his hair, slid down his back, were seemingly everywhere at once. They found their rhythm and moved with it, occassionally breaking apart to gasp for breath. _Wow_, was this a kiss - they'd never been like this before. And Once-Ler thought, nervous as he was, that he really liked it.

Breathless, his mouth strayed from hers and he began trailing little kisses along her jaw-line, down her neck, to the base of her throat. He lingered there for a while, then tentatively, almost experimentally, nibbled along her collarbones. He heard Norma sigh, and he gasped audibly when she nudged her hips gently against his in response. Oncie moved just a little bit, enough so that he was now completely on top of her, though he was careful not to lie down too heavily on her, keeping himself half propped-up with his elbows. As if from a distance, he heard himself murmuring her name, and she his, but it all seemed very blurred and even a bit surreal. All he could concentrate on was the erratic thudding of his own heart, and the sensation of their hips shifting together, almost as if he were suspended in time for several long seconds. And then -

_Thunkthunk. Thunk. _

Startled, the Once-Ler jumped, pulling his mouth away from Norma's. Straightening up in the bed, not even bothering to fix his disheveled appearance, he cleared his throat and gave her a flustered, embarrassed glance before searching for the source of the noise. Temporarily distracted from his little escapade with Norma, he clambered in his lanky, ungainly way out of bed and headed for the window, where the tapping sound was persisting. He scratched the top of his head, bemused; when he looked out the window, however, he saw the source of the noise.

"Pipsqueak?" he greeted the tiny brown barbaloot outside his window, eyebrows raised. Turning to Norma, he said, "I wonder what's up. He doesn't usually come around like this. I-I mean, he used to, but none of the animals have visited me, um . . . i-in a long time." He looked down at his feet sheepishly, knowing that neither of them wanted to go into the whole factory issue tonight, not after two whole months of not fighting about it at all.

The embarrassment quickly left Norma's face, as well, replaced by that old familiar curiosity that he had seen in her so many times before. "Oh?" she asked, straightening up to a sitting position in the covers. "Well, let him in, Oncie! Don't just leave him standing out there all alone - I'm sure he must be freezing cold!"

The Once-Ler nodded, and obediantly opened the window, letting Pipsqueak hop inside. When the barbaloot landed as gracefully as possible with a healing leg on the nearby table, Oncie closed the window again, scooping the animal up into his arms. Much to his relief, Pip's leg seemed to be doing at least a little bit better than it had been before. Truthfully, he hadn't for a minute stopped feeling guilty about that, despite however many times he had told himself that he hadn't a thing in the world to feel guilty about. But seeing that the animal was on the road to recovery eased his mind just a little bit. Of course his factory couldn't be doing _that_ much bad, or else he would have shut it down entirely. No, Thneed Inc. was perfectly safe now, he was sure. How bad could it possibly be, right? Right. Everything was going to be just fine.

He brought Pipsqueak back to the bed, and gave him to Norma, who held him as gingerly as one might cradle an infant. "I think he's probably hungry," Oncie observed, noticing that the poor thing was looking thinner than usual. He opened his mouth to say that this was probably because there weren't as many Truffula fruits growing, but immediately decided against it. _Not your fault_, he reminded himself stubbornly. _All that's going to be fixed now. It's fine_. Instead, he said, "Hang on one minute, I'll get him something to eat." The Once-Ler darted into the kitchen, bustling through his cabinets until he found what he was looking for: a huge pink plastic bag of jumbo-sized marshmallows. His favorite - and Pipsqueak's, too. "Okaaaay, here we are! I've got sustenence!" he said as he came back into the bedroom.

"Marshmallows?" said Norma, though she couldn't help but chuckle and grin a little, herself. "Really, now, Oncie, we're feeding Pipsqueak, not you. Remember?" she gave him a teasing little smile, slowly but surely slipping out of the awkwardness created by their sudden make-out session in his bed.

"Hey, he likes 'em, too, so it's a win/win," the Once-Ler replied, hopping back into bed beside Norma. He bit his tongue as he opened the brand-new bag, smiling ear-to-ear as the sweet aroma hit his nostrils. He fished one out of the bag and popped it into his mouth, then gave one to Pipsqueak, who took the fluffy treat with delight. Oncie offered the bag to Norma next, his mouth still full of sticky snack food as he mumbled, "Want one?"

Unable to resist, Norma nodded and reached for a marshmallow, grinning contentedly as she ate. "Thanks," she said with her mouth full. When she had swallowed, she ruffled Pipsqueak's fur affectionately, saying, "I'm sure glad the little guy stopped by. I haven't seen him around in the longest time."

"I know, I missed him, too!" agreed Oncie, nodding. A blush rose to his features once again as he added, laughing a little stiffly, "Um, I guess it's a good thing that he happened to find us when he did. Sorry about all that, by the way. I didn't know we were gonna end up needing a chaperone," he added jokingly to lighten the mood, though the smile on his face didn't quite get rid of the humiliation in his eyes.

To his relief, Norma smiled back. At least she didn't look too offended. "Don't be sorry, Oncie," she said softly, reaching for his hand. "It's fine. Besides, I-I don't think we would have taken it _that_ far, anyway. Not so soon," she added, her cheeks carnation pink. "I'm not upset at all, so no need to worry. I trust you." Looking just as uncomfortable as he felt, she gave him a nod and sighed, looking away for just a second before holding his gaze.

"Y-Yeah! Yeah, you're right," he said, his voice cracking up at least an octave with nervousness. He nodded swiftly again, though this time it was more to reassure himself than her. "I-I mean, I, uh . . . I wouldn't have tried anything if you weren't totally ready, y'know? Th-that stuff doesn't matter, we don't need to . . . do . . . _that _yet. I mean, for now we can just concentrate on being in love in other ways." He cleared his throat, clearly not enjoying this part of the conversation at all, looking down at his hands in the awkward silence.

"Exactly. Let's wait. Just for a little while, until we're more . . . mm, _comfortable _with this whole setup. It won't kill us, right?" she smiled shyly, a little afraid to speak so lightheartedly about a topic that obviously had her boyfriend incredibly flustered. Placing the hand that wasn't holding his hand on his shoulder, she said assuredly, "Remember when I said earlier that you never have to be embarrassed around me? Well, I meant that. Don't worry, okay, sweetheart? It's not a big deal."

"Aaaaaaare you _sure_?"

"Positive," she replied, squeezing his hand.

He gave a relieved little sigh, finally accepting that she meant wholeheartedly what she was telling him. "O-Okay," he answered, though that achingly dark blush still wouldn't leave his features. "That's good. Yeah. Good to know." He was quiet for a beat, but then made the decision to say something else. "Uh, Norma?"

"Hmm?" she replied, taking off her glasses and setting them on the nightstand, for the first time remembering that she even had them on. "What is it, Oncie?"

"I-I just wanted you to know that, um . . . " he blushed nervously, then continued, "I think you're definitely worth the wait." The tiniest of smiles appeared on his face; he knew that he wasn't the most eloquent speaker when it came to his girlfriend - he could talk about thneeds to the general public with some degree of excellence, but he always got so nervous about what he said to Norma. Every word was precious between them.

She was silent for a while, just taking in the look on his face, her own expression absolutely stilll, placid. Then, she softened and smiled, leaning across to give him a considerably gentler kiss on the mouth, stroking his face comfortingly. "I love you," she said. "Thank you so much for that. I-I've never been worth that much to somebody before, you know. And it's a little nerve-wracking sometimes, but I wouldn't change any of this . . . " she gestured to the room, "for the world. This means everything to me."

"Really?" he asked, his eyebrows going up as the smile on his face broadened. "I-I'm so glad. You have no idea."

"Yep," she said brightly, giving him a wink. "But now," she yawned, "it's time to get some sleep. Pip can sleep in here too, tonight, if he wants. Goodnight, Once-Ler. And thanks again, for everything."

"Love you too," he mumbled, setting down the marshmallows and lying back down in the bed, settling in comfortably. He felt Pipsqueak crawl between the two of them, and his eyelids drooped. "See you in the mornin'," he said, his voice heavy with sleepiness.

The two of them drifted off into an easy, dreamless sleep.

* * *

Susie Once-ler was a force to be reckoned with.

It wasn't very often that she was spoken down to or intimidated; her last relationship with her ex-husband, Danny, had ended that dark period in her life. She had grown up in a household where she had been taught that keeping her mouth shut was the best way to please people around her. And so she had grown up wholeheartedly believing that - don't say anything about what you feel or what you want, and you'll get along with everybody. Danny had enforced this most of all.

When she had met him in college, he'd been such a charmer, always so keen to hear what was on her mind. But that had quickly changed after their marriage, and he had turned to drinking and gambling away what little money they had - he had wanted to silence her then. He kept her quiet with threats, with physical and emotional pain, until one day they'd given up on each other entirely and he just . . . left. Gone off to drain some other poor soul of everything she had, Susie supposed. When that chapter of her life had finally ended, she'd made a vow to never be tossed to the side again. She wasn't something to be discarded, and she knew it.

The years, no doubt, had changed her. Where she was once a sweet, happy-go-lucky young thing without a care in the world, she was now filled with a dark bitterness that was sometimes too tender and sore for even Susie herself to think about. She had so much ambition, so much _desire_, and yet all her work had gotten her nowhere. For the longest time, all she had had to call her own was a dilapidated old house with no air conditioning, an obnoxious brother and his cow of a sister-in-law, and her three do-nothing sons all living under one roof. What was to love about a life that was so unlike what she had wanted?

But now that she _did _have everything, all the money and all the possessions and fame that she could ever have asked for, she only had herself to thank. She was immensely grateful that she'd had the sense to realize that her eldest son, the Once-Ler, had more potential than Chet or Brett combined. That was why she had pushed him the hardest all this time; she had seen from the get-go that he could possibly lift up his family from their shameful state into the position of power that she so badly craved. And, of course, she had been right. Even though she believed Oncie to be just as thickheaded and just as much of a simpleton as his good-for-nothing father, she had always acknowledged that he was creative; and with her business-smarts and his charisma, they couldn't go wrong.

But lately, she was finding it increasingly difficult to keep him under her watchful eye. The Once-Ler had always been an insufferable Mama's Boy, despite the fact that she was never particularly kind to him. She knew full well how desperately he sought her approval, but she always made sure that he never quite measured up - that way, he would always be willing to be at her beck and call whenever she needed him. It was becoming much harder, however, for her to use that against him. Here he was, sitting on his pedestal as the Big Bad Businessman, and who did he think he was? Did he think he didn't need his mother to make decisions for him anymore?

She had to admit, the idea frightened her - not so much because she was losing her little boy to the fame, but rather that she was losing her little boy's _obediance_. She needed that from him to get what she wanted, to be able to enjoy his success just as much as he did - and here he was, going against her all of the sudden? What was going on? He'd always been so happy to try and impress her before, and now all of that was going away, and she was seeing something different in him. Something grown-up. He was losing that boyish naivete, and sooner or later, she wouldn't be able to make choices for him anymore. What would she do then?

Oncie's decision two months ago to slow down the production of thneeds had been the very last straw. Of course Susie, being his subordinate and not wanting to anger him _too_ much or else risk losing his loyalty for good, had said very little to him at the time that he had actually made the choice. Their little argument in his office when he had announced his decision to her had been a close call indeed; she had never seen him so genuinely angry with her before, and for the first time, she hadn't had a clue how to get him back on her side. She knew how foolish the choice was, knew that his business wouldn't last much longer because of it, and was determined to do anything to keep that money flowing in. She couldn't risk being poor and worthless again, not after she'd had a taste of being Somebody.

After two whole months of slowed production, his business was already seeing the adverse effects of his decision, even if he didn't realize it yet. Susie had snuck a peek at the progress reports sitting untouched on his desk this afternoon, and had read that their sales were the lowest that they'd ever been; even when his company was taking off after those first sales in the Valley so long ago, they hadn't been this bad. She had to do something about it, or else they would lose everything. She just had to keep it a secret from her son, for now at least. If he knew what she was going to do, then he would be angrier at her than he'd ever been for going against his wishes, especially when they involved his precious little Norma's feelings about the trees and the factory. But when he realized that his dumb choice had almost cost him his job, then he would thank his mama. She knew he would.

It was late at night, the only time when Susie knew that all the other employees, including the Once-Ler himself, would be at home a-snooze in their beds. She had stayed late from work today to finish up some paperwork crowding her desk, and while sitting alone in her tiny, cramped workspace, she had been struck with inspiration. She'd finally had an idea, a way to save Thneed Incorporated from going completely under within the next month. Of course, it was risky, and Oncie would find out eventually, but that didn't matter. She had to make things right between Thneed Inc. and Wiggins Technologies. Once-Ler had said that he didn't _trust _Arthur - who cared about trust? This was business.

She knew what she had to do.

Susie crept down the lush, red-carpeted hallway of the Thneed Inc. building, making her way to her desk, which sat beside an enormous ticking counter of how many thneeds had been sold. The numbers were ticking distressingly slowly - but that would all change soon. When she got to her familiar desk, she reached for the phone with a steady hand. There were butterflies in her stomach, yes, but she was not nervous. Just excited. She knew that she had the know-how and the slinkiness to pull this off. Dialing the number precisely as memorized, she lifted the phone to her ear and waited as it rang.

When someone picked up on the other end, Susie grinned ear-to-ear and put on her best sugary-sweet voice. "Yes, hello, is this Wiggins Technologies Information? . . . Yes, this is Miss Susanna Once-ler. I'd like to request to speak with Arthur Wiggins, please . . . oh, is he out right now? Well, give him a message for me . . . "

* * *

**DISCLAIMER: Hello, everyone. Just wanted to put this little legal footnote here just to be safe. "Silly Love Songs", as I'm sure you're all aware, belongs to Paul McCartney & EMI Records. Not little ol' me. Thanks! :)**


	21. Chapter Twenty-One: Any Decency Left?

"A business dinner?"

The Once-Ler blinked in mild surprise, reaching forward to take the cream-colored invitation out of his mother's hand. Moments earlier, she had barged into his office with great fanfare, carrying the card in between her thumb and forefinger and waving it about as though it were on fire and she were trying to extinguish the imaginary flames. She'd stammered a few words to him about an upcoming business dinner of some sort, and it was all Oncie could do to keep up with the sudden frenzy.

He glanced suspiciously at Susie for a moment, sensing something _odd _about the stiff brightness of her smile. He'd seen that look on her face before, and he knew her well enough to understand when she wasn't telling him _everything _that she knew. For a moment, he almost wondered if she had organized some part of this herself. She certainly had the sway to pull it off. He knew, however, that even if she were planning something, he would be hard-pressed to get it out of her, so there was no point in even pursuing it. He gave his head a slightly bemused shake, raising his eyebrows as he read over the tiny card in his hands.

_Dear Mr. Onceler,_

it read, his name obviously inserted after-the-fact to avoid the trouble of printing specifically-addressed cards,

_You plus one guest are cordially invited to participate as a guest speaker in the Annual Business Seminar, hosted this year in Greenville, on December 24th. The seminar will feature a candid discussion of the year in sales, followed by a brief presentation on how to grow one's small business, featuring a number of guest speakers, including Mr. Sylvester McMonkey McBean, renowned entrepreneur. It will last approximately one hour, and be followed by a lavish dinner, catered by Lazy Mayzie's Treetop Tavern. Please R.S.V.P. to the enclosed address promptly. We look forward to celebrating a year of excellent business with you!_

_Sincerely,_

_Dr. John P. Nefario_

_Gru Industries_

"When did this come in the mail, Mom?" he asked distractedly, reading it over a second time, just to make sure that he hadn't skipped over some important information in his excitement.

"Just this mornin', actually," said Susie briskly, nodding her head; her hair was so stiff with hairspray that it didn't budge, despite how vigorously she moved her head as she spoke. "Well? Whaddaya think? We're goin', ain't we?" She leaned in, eagerly awaiting his response, her eyes bright and hungry with greed. "Think of all the big ol' important figureheads that'll be there, babydoll! You'll be the talk of the party!"

He bit his lower lip, mulling it over. "Well, I'm not sure . . . "

It was December now; the year was finally coming to a close, but thneed sales were higher than ever. He couldn't explain it exactly - he knew that he had told his factory workers to slow down production, and so he had assumed that it would put them behind schedule. But for some reason, work was piling up on him more than ever. He had hoped when he had made the decision such a while ago that it would actually lighten the workload for him a little bit; but nowadays, it was just like it had been when his business had first cropped up. Paperwork piling up constantly, phone calls coming in from left and right, and trees disppearing in the blink of an eye.

And on top of that, letter after letter had arrived in the mail addressed to him, from Wiggins Technologies. His mother was always quick to dispose of them, claiming that they were useless garbage, anyways, since he had chosen against the merger with their company. Still, it was definitely . . . _odd_, to say the very least. His mother had always been so eager to get Wiggins Technologies and Thneed Incorporated together - so why did it seem like lately, she was trying even harder to keep him from communicating with them? He hadn't even had the chance to read over their letters before she took them away from him, claiming that she would throw them away later. (He never saw them in the trash bin, though . . . _odd_.)

What's more, the smog and runoff problems from the factory building itself, at this point, were bordering on un-fixable. He had looked through his blueprints countless times, making revisions almost daily to the plans that he had originally thought were perfect. It was disenheartening to see that something he had worked on for so long, put so much effort and love into, was showing itself to be so flawed. Still, he was determined to fix those things, if not for his own sake, then for Norma's. She cared about the entire issue far more than he, anyway. If he had it his way, he wouldn't _need _to focus on this runoff business - it was just a distraction from what really mattered, and that was earning his keep and making a living. He would try harder to be cleaner with his factory because he loved and respected Norma, but he wished it didn't have to be so time-consuming, at least.

So, with all that going on in his professional life, did he really have the time to concern himself with some business seminar? He wasn't sure if that would be the _best_ choice at all. And then to add to that, what would Norma think of all that? He could only imagine that she wouldn't be too thrilled with it, and that was a huge understatement. He clicked his tongue, weighing his options, and flipped the elegant little card over in his grip absently. It was definitely a lot to think about, he had to admit.

"Not sure?" Susie repeated, annoyed. "C'mon, Oncie! Ya can't pass this one up! Didn't'cha read the darn invitation? It'll be good publicity if ya show up! All the biggest business names'll be there!" She folded her arms across her chest, sensing the source of his reluctance, and gave an exasperated huff. "Now, sweetie pie, I know how ya feel about them parties. Or, more like, I know how your little _girlfriend _feels about 'em." She shot him a poisonous glance, but after a moment it faded away inconspicuously and she continued breezily as ever, "But just forget all that for a little while, alright? I'm sure _Norma _will understand that you've gotta start thinkin' about more important thangs. Like yer company. And of course, your dear ol' mama."

The Once-Ler became, for the first time in his life, completely still for a few seconds. He stared blankly down at the card in his grip, then sighed heavily through his nose, finally breaking the stillness streak by raking his hand through his bangs. Setting the invitation down on his desk, in a place that he would be sure not to forget about it later, he buzzed his lips as he thought on it. Drummed his fingers. Rocked on the heels and balls of his feet. Anything to prolong the silence for just a little bit, to give himself just a little more time to think of a response that would please his mother. After all, he had already disappointed her once; could he afford to do it again, or else risk his family leaving entirely?

He sighed, trying to keep calm on the outside, but inwardly furious at the entire situation. Even when he had built up this factory on his own hard work and toil, suffered months of ridicule just to see his dream realized, it wasn't any different. It would never be any different. No matter how high on the social ladder he managed to climb, he would always be under his mother's thumb. He remembered with a chill what she had said to him that fateful day, all those months ago: _You may be the boss of this stupid company, but I am your mother_ . . . . Oh yes, he knew that. And it frightened and frustrated him more than anything else.

He shrugged, finally coming up with an answer that was just vague enough to suffice. "I don't know," he said, keeping his voice light. "I'll think about it, I guess. It's not that I don't wanna go, really, I just have a ton of work to do. You get that, right, Mom?" He gave her an uneasy smile, caught up in his own earthquake of emotions when it came to his family. "I mean, I don't reeeeeally see the harm, but y'know, I've got a bunch of stuff on my schedule . . . " he allowed his voice to trail off awkwardly at the end of his sentence.

"Well, you're the CEO, ain't ya?" Susie fired back, hands moving to her hips. She raised her eyebrows expectantly, as if she had a very simple solution in her back pocket, and she was a little worried that he was so slow to realize it. "You can take vacations whenever ya want, and just git yer little worker drones to take care of all the leftover thangs for ya!"

"Yeah, but Mom - " he began, trying to offer his side of the story, but Susie would have nothing of that.

"Oncie, what have I told you? When it comes to yer family, there's no room for 'if's, 'and's, or 'but's." She nodded her head firmly, obviously set in her decision. "I swear, sometimes I believe you've got just about as much brains as yer bum of a father had loyalty and human decency." She sniffed indignantly. "It's a good thang you've got good P.R. people workin' wonders for yer company, 'cause you can be downright antisocial when it comes to puttin' yer name out there with other businesses. You ain't got the know-how like I do."

The Once-Ler cringed, rendered momentarily speechless by the cruelty of her words. She had always been the sort of person to disguise her sharpness with polite tones and false smiles, but there was none of that now. It was very rare indeed that she was so bluntly critical of him, without any pretenses whatsoever - it took him a little off-guard, to say the very least. He blinked, stunned as he drank in every syllable with a sickening ache in his chest. He must have really upset her now, to make her so openly angry with him. He glanced down at his feet, unable to face the hardness of her gaze.

"Yeah," he began again, his voice hollow. Clearing his throat, he finally gained the nerve to look her in the eye, doing his best not to flinch away. "I-I, uh . . . yeah, I get it, Ma." He gave an awkward, dull laugh. "I-It's just, work piles up _really _fast around here, and y'know, publicity is _awesome_, but this job is about more than socializing."

Susie chuckled, and it was a _scary_, angry sound, disguised with a sickening sweetness. "Aaw, well, that's where you're wrong, Oncie. Ya see, you've got this naive view o'the world - ya still think that anyone gives a darn about all the numbers and stuff that ya worry yerself so much over?" She waved her hand, as if flapping away the entire idea. "That might matter to the people who're actually keepin' the factory _runnin'_ - that's a different kind of important. The people're who you really wanna impress. It's all about _who _ya know. Why d'ya think I made you git rid of those tacky striped pants and old junk ya used to wear? Image, son. That's what it's all about."

"Image?" he repeated, doing his best to keep his anger in check. He was determined not to get into an argument with his mother today. As much as they disagreed, he did love her - what self-respecting gentleman didn't love his mother? It was just difficult to believe that he was loved in return sometimes. "Okay. Yeah. You've got a point. But . . . but I made it this far 'cause the public loves my thneeds, right?"

"I don't know," she replied cryptically, knowing that she had successfully backed him into a corner. "_Did _you? Or did ya just get lucky?"

The room fell deathly silent. The Once-Ler glanced around at his office, at the green striped walls and the dramatic red curtains, the spacious room decorated with portraits of himself and piles of money nearly as tall as him. Money that had bought him new suits, glossy new guitars . . . a new _life_. When he looked around at all of that, it was certainly hard to believe that he had made it here, after such a long time thinking that it could only ever be a dream. It was even more bizarre that his mother was insinuating that anything other than his own hard work had gotten him to this point. Did she really doubt him that much? If that was the case, then what was _he _to believe about it all? What should he think of himself?

That question became harder and harder to answer every time he looked out the window, and saw the smoggy sky and the Super Axe Hackers hard at work. The trees seemed to be falling faster lately, only adding to his guilt. He had thought that slowing down production would help at least a little, but now it was almost as if he had never made the decision in the first place.

"Look, I gueeeeess it couldn't hurt if . . . " he shrugged his shoulders and bit his lower lip against a guilty, nervous smile, "I went to the party. Just the once. I mean, what harm could it do, right? I deserve a break every once in a while." Although he had forced himself to say it at first, when his words really sunk in, he could almost believe them. Becoming more sure of himself, he gave another laugh, this one more genuine, and continued speaking. "Yeah! I'll just need to talk it over with some of my employees, but, uh, it should be fine. Totally fine. See, Mom? It works out perfectly," he pleaded, eager to please.

She seemed appeased by this, much to his relief. He had to admit, though he had lately been experiencing doubts about his mother, he couldn't help but impulsively wish to make her happy. It was how he had lived his entire life, and even though Norma had helped lift the veil over his relationship with his family and allowed him to see for the first time what they might really be after, he couldn't help but act that way even now. He was just so used to it. And it was really a good deal of what he had wanted all along, his mother's approval. Just because he was a bit confused right now didn't mean that he was going to start resenting her right away. There was a part of him that still yearned for her to see him, really see him, and love him and realize that he was not his father.

_I am not my father_.

Inwardly, he cursed himself for being so spineless, for not having the courage to stand up to his mother again and tell her what he really thought of the whole ordeal. He was being downright bullied by her into a lot of his business decisions lately, and not for the first time he was beginning to wonder if he had been wrong all along to entrust her with the position of power he had given her in his company's setup. He knew a demotion would only make her upset with him, but there had to be some way he could move on and make some choices for himself, without her needling her way through everything and living vicariously through him.

Examining her perfectly-manicured fingernails, she smirked triumphantly, then glanced over at the Once-Ler. "That's just right! I know my sweet little boy wouldn't let me down!" Prancing around his desk until she was standing at his side, she reached out and pinched his cheek with what was clearly supposed to be affection, though there was a definite malice behind it. In fact, Oncie was sure that he could feel a bruise coming on. "I'm so, so glad you see things my way now, Oncie, babycakes. Remember, honey: I love you, and so I know what's best for ya."

"Aha . . . right. Right, you sure do, Mom," he agreed, nodding his head quickly, wishing that he could just stop feeling so tense around her and trust her as wholeheartedly as he once did. Being _aware_ of her scheming nature just hurt too much; he wished he could strive for her approval without feeling so hopeless at the same time. Swallowing hard, he added, with a soft, sad half-hearted smile, "Love you too."

"I know you might doubt me know," she continued, "but don't worry. I promise, once ya realize how much money we'll be makin' on puttin' yer name out there for all them other businessmen to see, you'll come around. You always do." Leaning a little closer to him, some of the falseness dropped from her gaze, her eyes going a little stonier. Still, the cold smile was still there as she whispered, almost as though she were sharing a secret, "Ya might like to play pretend, Oncie, but let's face it. You're more like me, more like yer whole family, even more like yer dear ol' daddy than you'd ever admit."

She winked at him, the grin on her face widening for just a moment before she composed herself, brushing off her skirt, and moved almost silently out of the room. The Once-Ler was left alone in his office, shaking so hard and so distracted by his own anger that he didn't even hear the door open and close when she left. He stood there, fuming, for several long seconds before he realized that all he was doing was clenching his fists and glaring at the wall. Blinking, as though he were coming out of a trance, he drew a deep breath and glanced behind him, making sure he was totally alone. He slumped back into his tall red chair, deflating with defeat, as his mother's words washed over him.

His father had left them when Oncie was a tiny thing, only five or six. He didn't remember very specifically what the man looked like, just very vague, blurry details that he'd tried too hard over the years to just forget entirely. But he _couldn't _forget them because they were so much of _him_. Danny Once-ler had had blue eyes, and shaggy black hair, and had thought the world of his tall, lanky frame. For years, the Once-Ler had assumed that his connection to his father was only through physical appearance, but what if what his mother had said was true? What if he really was just as selfish and greedy as Danny had been?

After all, now that he thought about it, he broke his promises too, just like his father had. No matter how many times he swore to Norma that money didn't really matter, that all he really needed was to be with her, he somehow found himself creeping back to the high-living, the famously reckless lifestyle that had almost destroyed their relationship to begin with. He loved her, yes, but he still couldn't stop himself from putting his own wants in front of hers. And as guilty as he was about it all, he knew that there would be no changing it. He had to hold up his business after all, make a living; she had said herself that she wouldn't want him to lose everything because of her. That meant that she would be okay with it. Right? Right. He wasn't _bad_. She loved him.

Shaking all over, he gulped and propped his elbows on his desk, burying his face in his hands. Just a few precious moments of alone time, that was what he needed. With all this work piling up, the stress was coming back just as strong as it had ever been. He needed just a second or two to gather his wits and collect his thoughts before he started working again. This was one of his own self-defense mechanisms, whenever work got to be too much or he was faced with the problems of his factory that he didn't want to hear; he would just hole himself up in his office, and curl up and soak in the silence for as long as he could. Just shut it all out, or shove all those feelings down so deep that nobody could reach them, and then maybe they'd be forgotten.

He was dragged out of his thoughts by an achingly-familiar voice. One that, on today, of all days, he really didn't want to hear.

"You got a minute, Beanpole?"

The Once-Ler groaned; the sound was muffled against his gloved hands, still pressed against his face as he tried in vain to block out the world, just for a few more seconds. _Not now_, he thought desperately, his shoulders tensing. _Please just be my imagination. Please go away._

"I'm busy, Mustache," was all that the green-suited businessman fired back in return. He didn't bother to look up.

"Are ya _sure_?" the Lorax pressed. "This is important. It'll only take a minute."

After a long silence, Oncie sighed heavily, figuring that there was no other way to get rid of the little orange nightmare. Slowly, reluctantly, he removed his hands, leaving himself vulnerable to the world. At first, he didn't spot the Lorax, but after a moment of looking around his office, he realized the reason why. The creature was so short that he didn't even come to the top of Oncie's desk; the businessman had to lean forward just to be able to see the top of the Lorax's head. The Lorax, apparently, noticed this as well, and moved to stand on the other side of the desk, where he could remain in plain sight of the Once-Ler.

"Okay, okay," he conceded, holding his hands out complacently in front of his chest. "Whatever. But make this quick, alright? I'm really not in the mood for any arguing right now," he mumbled, turning away to fiddle distractedly with the paperwork on his desk for a moment before glancing at his old friend again. "Let me guess. You're here to needle me about the tree thing, right? Well, for your information, I've told my employees to slow down production. So everything's fine. Let me save you the trouble of preaching to me."

The Lorax, looking annoyed with the Once-Ler's jumping to conclusions, shook his head vigorously, hands on his hips. "I know all 'bout that," he said hurriedly. "And that's not the problem here. Well, not _really_. I just thought you oughta know somethin'. There's somethin' serious about to happen, somethin' that you can take care of."

"Oh?" Oncie answered, trying his best to appear disinterested, rather than just outright frayed, like he felt. He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms and continuing as cooly as possible, "Aaaaaand what exactly is _that_?"

"Look," said the Lorax, glancing around the room nervously, as though he were afraid that someone would barge into the room and interrupt their conversation. "I know ya think that you've fixed everything with this whole slowing-things-down and whatnot that you've put on the factory. And that's great. Okay. Wonderful. But we got us a problem." He lowered his voice conspiratorially, sounding like he was about to share a deep, dark secret. "A problem that I think your mom started."

The Once-Ler blinked, stunned by this accusation. He gave his head a bemused shake, his cheeks reddening, as if _he _had been the one accused by the Lorax. "What are you _talking _about?" he asked, affronted. "My mom's my subordinate here. She doesn't have any more authority than, say . . . Chet or Brett. What makes you think she's such a threat to you?"

He had to admit, even _he _thought that his mother had been acting a little strangely lately, but the Lorax's nervousness over it all seemed a little far-fetched. What could his mother possibly do that would affect either of them so drastically, that it would warrant a reaction like this? True, he didn't really believe that he knew his mother too well at all; she had shut him out for so long, the hope that they would one day see eye-to-eye on anything was long gone. She would never reveal her motives to him - she was too prideful for that, of course. But could he really see her as a villain? After all, she was a little on the mean-spirited side at times, but other than that, she was virtually harmless. Wasn't she?

Who was the Once-Ler supposed to believe? Especially in a situation where it seemed as though the truth was being fabricated by _everyone_?

"Listen," said the Lorax, fumbling for a moment. For the first time, the Once-Ler noticed that the creature had a balled-up piece of paper in his hand; he lifted his eyebrows curiously as the orange man presented it to him, with the air of great importance. "I found this yesterday, when your _security _pals tossed me in the garbage bin outside ya factory." He gave Oncie a scornful gaze that suggested he hadn't quite forgiven him for that yet, but then continued as briskly as possible. "I hate ta break it to ya, but it looks like you ain't been clued in on everything that's been goin' on with this company."

"What?" he blurted again, in his confused state almost unable to say much of anything else. He hastily snatched the paper from the Lorax, talking as he unfolded it, trying to smooth out the crinkles. "By the way, do me a favor, and don't go through my trash anymore. Got it?"

"Just read the thing, will ya, Beanpole?" replied the Lorax, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Right. Sorry."

His hands shook as he smoothed out the letter just enough to be able to read it properly. He'd recognize that bright red insignia of a lion anywhere. He'd seen it enough over the past few months, pretty much every time the mail arrived. It was the seal for Wiggins Technologies, their infamous symbol that seared his eyes every time he received one of their letters. So, he supposed it was true; his mother had been throwing them away, at least. Just as he was about to exhale with relief that at least she had told him the truth, however, he stopped himself, realizing that it was, in fact, just the opposite. His eyes scanned over the contents of the letter once, twice, three times, in absolute silence. A buzzing seemed to fill his ears, his pulse jumping in his throat. His stomach clenched, his heart dropping to his feet. He struggled to find his voice, to say something, anything, but words wouldn't come.

The letter had been from Arthur, addressed to him, though they had never been in correspondence. He assumed, judging by its contents, that all this time, his mother had been the one writing responses to Wiggins Technologies, while Oncie remained completely oblivious to it all. It didn't seem quite possible to comprehend, but the letter seemed to suggest that the company's expansions had been approved after all, and the factory had picked up steam and was biggering again. The Once-Ler didn't understand; when had he made _that_ choice? He had never written to Wiggins Technologies, never in a million years even considered going back on his decision. What was going on, and why was the biggering happening behind his back? He was the CEO, for Heaven's sake, shouldn't he know about these things? This had to just be a huge misunderstanding. His mother couldn't have made this choice for him, not after he'd told her specifically not to. She wouldn't have.

Right?

"Well?" said the Lorax, bringing the Once-Ler out of his troubled, disturbed line of thinking. "Whaddaya think of that? Did you know about any of this stuff goin' on? I thought you did at first, but seein' how you just reacted to that just now . . . I'm guessin' ya didn't really after all." If Oncie wasn't mistaken, his very good acquaintance looked almost pitying of him.

Numbly, the Once-Ler shook his head. "N-No," he finally forced out of his throat. His face blanching, he swallowed hard, shaking visibly as he set the letter down on his desk. He clutched the corner of his desk to keep himself steady, looking up, wide-eyed, from his lap to the Lorax. "I had no idea. I-I thought . . . I thought everything was just how I left it. I mean, I don't understand - everything's fine - it's all fine. I never even for a minute . . . " his voice trailed off; he was, for the first time in his life, at a loss for words. "What does that even mean?"

He expected the Lorax to be exasperated, but the Guardian of the Forest seemed to be almost patient with Oncie, for a change. He sighed, then said, as calmly as possible, weariness in his voice, "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'? 'Cause I'm thinkin' that it's your mom that caused all this. Look, I've seen how things have been runnin' here. I show up all the time, so I notice things. And I've noticed that she's seemed real unhappy about this whole slower-production thing from the get-go. Soooo . . . it looks like she's the one who's behind all this. Couldn't stand the thought of losing a couple dollars, I guess."

Something about the contempt in the Lorax's tone of voice made the Once-Ler instantly defensive. He couldn't explain it, exactly; he knew that his mother was manipulative, and deep down, he couldn't deny that it looked like she'd gone behind his back and made a very important business decision for him, a decision he resented, for that matter. But for whatever reason, a fire still blazed in his belly whenever someone _outside _of the family challenged her, or questioned her morals. He supposed he was just overprotective of his family in general; a sort of "nobody-can-pick-on-you-except-me" type thing. It was one thing for _him _to be experiencing doubts about his mother's motives, but coming from someone else, it just made him angry. It replaced all those hurt feelings, his blood rushing with a misdirected rage.

"No," he said again, more insistently this time, hurrying to his feet, pacing busily about his office. He shook his head with the same degree of stubbornness. "No, look, that's not right. That _can't _be right. I mean . . . all those decisions go through _me_ first! She couldn't have done that without consulting me! Sh-she wouldn't have. A-and look, you don't exactly have any right to just go around _assuming _things about people, y'know? She's my mom. I think it's safe to say I know her better than you do."

_But do you really? _he asked himself on impulse.

Shaking those thoughts away quickly, he cleared his throat and continued. "Anyways, how do I know that this is even real? I-I mean, you said you have _powers_ or whatever, right? So . . . so how do I know that you're not pulling my leg right now, trying to get me to back off?" Okay, he was grasping at straws now, obviously just trying any old excuse to make the situation look a little bit better than it was. "Look . . . I-I'm sure everything is totally okay. I've taken care of everything that needs to be taken care of, so . . . I appreciate the concern, but you can go now." He crumpled up the letter again, a little more angrily than necessary, and tossed it back at the Lorax, defensive and on edge.

Truthfully, he didn't know _what_ he ought to be feeling right now. Lately, it was constantly a struggle to decide who to trust and who to hold back from. It was one of those things he supposed he never would really know. True, he often doubted his mother, and he realized that this might just be something that she was indeed capable of. But for some reason, his mind wouldn't let him accept it. Maybe he was just being naive, he couldn't be sure. It was just a hard pill to swallow, that he had been betrayed by his own mother. He knew she held his opinions and decisions in no regard, and that she thought he was a complete fool, but she had no right to do those things. It was impossible.

No, surely the Lorax was just making things up. He hadn't supported the factory from the beginning; why should he all of the sudden want to save Oncie's hide now? No, he was just trying to trick him, that had to be it. After all, this _was_ the same Guardian of the Forest that had tried to drown him by sending him down a gigantic waterfall in his bed. They'd certainly clashed before; what was this but one more argument? It was a ridiculous theory, and it was one that the Once-Ler had invented entirely because he was scared of having to face the truth and own up to the fact that his mother had lied to him for months. He didn't want to be told that he was wrong, that he was the bad guy. So it was a theory that he was going to stick to.

"Will ya listen to yourself, kid?" the Lorax sighed, a hopelessness in his voice that made Oncie sick to his stomach. As much as the orange animal's visits annoyed him, he hated to think that his old friend had lost all hope in him whatsoever. He had been the only one to really realize potential in him from the very beginning, anyway, honestly. If he lost his one and only friend . . . "I told ya already - that's not how my powers work. I couldn't just conjure up a fake letter and make you believe all of this. That's not what I do. I'm just showin' ya what I think is goin' on. And if there's any decency left in ya at all that this business stuff didn't take away already, then you know what ya gotta do about it."

The logic was undeniable - and yet the Once-Ler's heart still wouldn't let him take it all in. He denied it anyway. Just shut it all out, like usual. That self-defense mechanism was slipping back into effect already. It was just too hard to accept that his family didn't respect his authority, didn't think him capable of making his own choices. So why should he _have_ to accept it? And anyway, he still wasn't completely sold on the idea that the Lorax was being honest with him. It all seemed fishy to the Once-Ler. And for now, he supposed that he was obliged to give his mother the benefit of the doubt - she _was_ his mom, after all, and what kind of son would he be if he disrespected her any more than he already had?

The Lorax's last statement was the one that bothered him the most. What did he mean by, _if _he had any decency left? Did that mean that there was some room for doubt there, that somehow it was hard to believe that the Once-Ler was a decent person? True, he was a little haphazard sometimes, especially concerning his business decisions, but that didn't mean that he was a bad guy, right? No, of course not. He'd done plenty of good things throughout his whole life. Including this factory. He was helping people with all these thneeds, after all. Everything was okay now, he'd fixed things. He didn't have anything to feel guilty about, especially when he was the one being deceived. Wasn't he? There was no way any of this could be the truth.

The Once-Ler scoffed indignantly, unwilling to yield. "Look, I think we're done here. If that's all you wanted to talk about, then I think it's about time for you to leave. I've got work do to, y'know. Can't waste a lot of time on this." He slumped back down in his seat, pretending to be thoroughly busy, although his mind was elsewhere. Giving the Lorax an absent, dismissive wave, he sighed and said, "Why don't you come back when you've actually got some _proof _that they're tricking me, huh?"

Although some part of him, deep down, knew that the Guardian wasn't lying, he still couldn't help but make a last-ditch effort to maintain his dignity. He would hate to be called out as a fool, especially in front of him, and have to face the undeniable truth that he had been trying his very best to avoid all along: his mother was no good. For him or anybody else.

After a long silence, the Lorax answered bleakly, "Fine. I'll go. Have it your way, then, Once-Ler." The businessman gave a start; it was a very rare occassion indeed that the Lorax called him by his real name. In fact, it was so rare that Oncie had just assumed the fuzzy orange man didn't even know his full name. This must _really_ be important, he realized with a pang of guilt. "I tried to talk it out with ya, at least. Can't say I didn't try."

The Once-Ler looked up as the doors to his office swung open one last time, and then quickly closed again. The Lorax was gone, leaving him once again alone with his thoughts. This time, however, he didn't want to think; he didn't want to do anything but sink away into his own guilt and hide from all the responsibilities on his shoulders. When he had first set out on his journey to get rich quick and sell his thneeds to the world, he hadn't imagined in his wildest dreams that the CEO position would be so difficult. How could he feel so on top of the world at one minute, and then so unhappy the very next?I was a constant carousel of emotions for him, these days.

He sighed again, resting his head against the smooth, glossy-finished, oaken surface of his desk. Closing his eyes, he wished in vain for the whirling in his head to stop, for his world to make sense again. He'd always thought those celebrities were so dramatic before, back when he wasn't Mr. Onceler the CEO, back before he could understand himself. It had always made him so angry when famous people had all their money and everything they could ever want, and yet still constantly gave interviews about how sad they were. It hadn't made sense to him, how someone could possibly be dissatisfied with that much; but now he knew. He knew all too well.

It seemed like he was letting _everyone _down lately. Including himself.

* * *

Norma was already waiting at home when the Once-Ler finally returned from work that evening. She had had a few errands to run in downtown Greenville earlier that day, but had ended up finishing much earlier than she had anticipated. So, the rest of the day had been spent trying to bring some organization to the little tent that they shared. She knew that Oncie preferred to live in the methodical disarray, so she didn't rearrange much; most of her work had been in their bedroom, straightening up and giving them some room to actually walk without tripping over debris. It was weird to actually be able to see the floor in there.

When the door to their tiny, humble cottage creaked open, she looked up from the book she was reading at the dining room table, her eyebrows raised. Even now, after a year of being involved romantically, it still never failed to make her heart stop every time she so much as looked at him. She could tell, even from a first glance, that he had had a bad day; his posture was a little tense, and yet he still looked like he might slump over at any minute. His hair was disheveled beneath his top hat, his tie slightly askew, as he always wore it whenever he was stressed (he always thought the thing was tied too tightly). There was a familiar weariness in his eyes, even when he gave her a gigantic, warm smile and a boyish little wave so typical to his personality.

"Hey," Norma chirped as she stood up from her seat, setting her book down on the table before heading over to his side. She kissed him on the cheek, then said, "Welcome home, Mr. Man of the House. How was work?"

"Work was . . . work," he sighed, giving her another, decidedly more half-hearted grin as he headed into the room, shutting the door behind him. He set his briefcase on the ground next to the hat rack, abandoning his top hat before sweeping her in for a soft kiss on the mouth. "Cruddy day," he explained as the kiss broke, though even this announcement didn't stop him from nuzzling softly against her neck, kissing the curve of her shoulder. "I'm just glad I'm home now. I missed you today."

Reveling in his warmth, she stroked the nape of his neck affectionately and smiled. "I missed you too, all the way over there in your office," she said, kissing the top of his head, inhaling his familiar crisp, fresh scent. "Sorry you had a bad day. Hey, since thneeds can do everything, maybe you should make one that can sell them all for you, so you could just hang out here all day," she joked, smirking and looping her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. She giggled, feeling the tickling rumble of his laughter in his rib cage.

"Aaaaaand just _how _well d'you think my mom would take that?" he answered, though it sounded from his tone of voice that this had cheered him up, just a little. She could practically hear the easy smile on his face echoing in his voice.

"Hmm, I don't know," said Norma with a playful shrug, reaching up to ruffle his hair, as she always did with him. "I think you could probably convince her. Just use your almighty power of the Businessman on her or something. Win her over with your charm." She gave him a toothy grin, but the amusement quickly faded from her face when she saw the troubled look on his face.

He frowned a little, giving an awkward laugh as he sat down at the table, rocking the chair on the two back legs. "I don't think I can convince my mom of _anything_, these days," he muttered, uncharacteristically soft-spoken and cryptic. Oncie was always one to tell her exactly what was on his mind; what had induced this sudden shying away from his problems?

Instantly, Norma gritted her teeth. Susie - that wretched woman! Of course she would be the cause of such a dark mood in her oldest son. Sighing with understanding, she walked over to his side and rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. "So, your mom's been giving you a hard time today?" she asked patiently. "I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything you need to get off your chest? You know I'm always here to listen if there's anything at all that's on your mind."

"I think I'll be okay," he sighed, shaking his head slightly. He slid his fingers into his bangs, resting his forehead against the heels of his hands, elbows propped up on the table. It pained Norma to see him looking so frayed, like a rope that had been twisted into the same position one time too many. He was coming apart at the seams, no matter what they did to try to keep him together. Managing a soft smile, he looked up at her and added, "I think it's just that . . . well, um . . . did you ever idolize someone for, like, a _really _long time, and then all of the sudden realize that they're really just plain . . . no-good?"

Norma nodded, her heart twisting with a painful empathy. Yes. Of course she understood that. It was exactly the way that she felt about Arthur Wiggins, had spent her entire childhood following him around, gazing at him as though he were the only star in the sky. And as they had grown older, that glorified view of him had slowly washed away, until finally, she was left staring the bold truth in the face. He was nothing more than a conniving, manipulative young man who cared for nothing but his own ambitions. She'd looked up to him, loved him as much as a little girl could love their best friend, and it had hurt so badly to see her pristine view of him begin to crumble before her very eyes. Somewhere during that time period, however, it had clicked in her mind that the old Arthur was lost to her for good, and wasn't coming back.

As painful as it had been to accept, in a way, she was glad that it had happened. It had shaped her, and made her stronger; and now she had a way to relate a little better to the Once-Ler's plight, as well. She knew, after all, that he didn't exactly have the simplest or most straightforward relationship with his mother. The two of them were always just going through the motions with each other; one minute, they adored each other, and the next, the Once-Ler was left practically in tears by the cruelty of his mother's words. Norma wished more than anything that there was an easier way to show him what kind of woman Susie really was, without having his heart shatter in the process. But it seemed to be the only solution, to bring him to his senses with this kind of bluntness.

"I know," she said softly, brushing back his bangs to look adoringly into his eyes. "I know it hurts. But you've got me right here with you, Oncie, and you know I'm not leaving. Or at least, I should hope you do, by this point," she added with the same gentleness, giving him a warm little smile. Growing a bit more serious, she asked curiously, "If you don't mind talking about it, though . . . what did she say to you this time? I don't think I've ever seen you this upset over how she behaves before. Was it really bad?"

For a moment, he looked as if he might tell her. He sighed, mumbling, "Well, it's just that . . . I mean, it just frustrates me sometimes that . . . " he gestured absently with his hands, trying to gather the right words, "y'know, that she doesn't take me seriously. No matter what I say or do, it's never enough. She doesn't trust me to . . . to take care of stuff on my own," he finished, his voice falling off into a flat, discouraged craggle.

Norma pursed her lips. She wished that he would tell her just a little bit more, but she supposed that she couldn't force it out of him. After all, there were just some days when Oncie just didn't want to talk about his problems, and instead chose to shut up in himself and his work as a distraction. That was just the way he coped, depending on the situation. Nine times out of ten, though, he would warm up to the idea of talking through everything later on, and end up saying everything that was on his mind one way or another. She wasn't going to push him when he wasn't ready - but she would be there for him, she determined, when he was.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better," said Norma, taking a seat beside him at the table, trying her best to cheer him up, "I've always believed in you. Right from the very minute we first met."

"Uh-huh," he responded dubiously, looking over at her with a highly amused smirk on his face. Slowly, the light began to return to his eyes, the tension falling from his muscles as he eased himself into their usual routine of light, snappy banter. It was familiar enough to keep him comfortable, and quick enough to keep his mind off his other mixed emotions. "Riiiiiiight. That's why the very first thing you said to me was a huge diss against my music, wasn't it?" he laughed, elbowing her lightly in the ribs.

"Of course!" she said through giggles, doubling over as he nudged her with his elbow. "I couldn't let you know how enamored I was with you back _then_, could I? You would've thought I was just some silly little girl! Practically a _child_!" she smirked over at him, then stole a quick kiss against his lips. "Besides, I should hope that you know by now what I think of you, anyways. Doesn't that make up for it?" she asked, giving him a characteristically devious grin.

Leaning forward playfully, he seized her by her shoulders and pulled her in for one of the most enthusiastic kisses he'd given her in a while. All that energy bouncing between the two of them, he massaged her shoulders lightly as he broke apart, resting his head against the curve of her shoulder. "Maaaaaaaybe," he teased with a soft laugh, his breath warm and tickling against her skin. "You've stuck with me for this long - if you haven't ditched by now, then I must be doing something right," he chuckled again.

"Something?" murmured Norma, a little breathless from their kissing, her face flushed slightly. "Try _everything_ - being with you, here, is the best thing that I could've possibly dreamed up for myself. I love you." Taking his face in her hands, she kissed him soundly on the mouth, pressing her forehead to his as she repeated, "I love you."

"I love you, too. More than anything."

After a lengthy pause, Norma sighed happily and kissed his cheek. The two of them just sat there, cradling each other comfortably, until at last the silence was broken once again. "I'm so glad you're feeling better," she whispered, her voice still easy and soft, to keep with the tone of their conversation. "I can't stand to see you so upset like that. It breaks my heart to watch you hurt."

"Yeah. I hate it, too," he conceded, nodding swiftly. "Okay, I promise, I'm all better for now. No more woe-is-me, sad, mopey Once-Ler. Alright?" He gave her a crooked smile, decidedly more confident now than earlier, and ruffled her hair. "Thanks for cheering me up and everything. You always know how."

"Well," she replied, kissing the space between his eyes before standing up from the table, bringing him to his feet along with her, "that's because I'm your loving girlfriend, and that's my job." Smiling, she asked him next, "Sooooo, since it's coming up next week, I've been meaning to ask you. Do we have any plans for Christmas Eve? I wasn't sure if you were busy with work or anything, but I thought we could go out to this really nice place in Greenville. It's got a swing dance parlor and everything - you know how we always wanted to go out dancing but couldn't? What do you think?"

The Once-Ler's face reddened, and he winced guiltily, making a "ksshhh"ing sound with his gritted teeth. Uh-oh. Norma knew that look, all too well. Her heart sank immediately upon seeing his reaction. That was the "Oh Crap, She's Made Plans When I Already Have Plans" face. Nothing good could come from that. She tried her best, however, not to look disappointed just yet; he might have a perfectly good explanation behind all this, and she wouldn't want to hurt his feelings by acting as though he'd let her down in any way.

"Oh, geez, Norma," he said, looking fervently uncomfortable, smacking his forehead in self-admonition. "I'm so, _so _sorry." Lowering his hand, he looked over at her, eyes wide, his eyebrows raised, conflict all over his face. "That sounds _awesome_, buuuut . . . they're kiiiiiinda makin' me work on Christmas Eve." He flinched back, as if he were expecting to be hit, then relaxed when the impact didn't come. "I'm sorry," he said again, very tentatively, as if he were trying to gauge how angry she was.

Her stomach dropped with disappointment, but she tried her best to conceal it. There was no need to act like such a spoiled, selfish brat in front of him, especially when he had already given up practically everything just to be with her. Gone against his business, his own family, _everything,_ just so they could be together. One little missed date shouldn't matter that much, in the face of all the other wonderful things that he'd done for her before. Still . . . she couldn't help it when it felt as though a cold fist had squeezed tightly around her heart, only to pull it down to her feet. And she felt terrible about it.

Giving him the best reassuring smile that she could manage, she reached over and lightly touched his shoulder. "Oh, no, no, Oncie, it's perfectly fine. Don't worry! Did you honestly expect me to get upset over something like _that_? I-I understand, so don't worry about it, okay, sweetheart?" She kissed him on the cheek again, knowing that he had a bit of a thing for that, and stroked the bridge of his nose with her finger.

He sighed, even going as far as to look a little annoyed, despite himself. "Norma, I can totally tell you're lying," he said, giving her a deadpan expression. He rolled his eyes a little, but his facial expression softened when he met her gaze and he tenderly kissed her on the mouth. "I wish you'd just tell me if you're upset," he admonished her, though his voice was gentle and warm, very close to her ear. "I'm really bad at figuring that stuff out by myself, so if you don't say so, I'm just gonna have to assume you really don't mind."

Norma shook her head, blushing at the way that just the sound of his voice, no matter what he was saying, made every part of her itch and ache to be near him. "No, Oncie," she said insistantly. "I'm not upset, I promise. I mean, of course I'm disappointed that you couldn't go out with me on Christmas Eve, but it's alright. It's nothing that we can't make up for later. We're creative. We'll think of something. Won't we?" She smiled, hoping that he would return the gesture; she wished that she didn't always have to unintentionally make him feel guilty about everything.

"Yeah," he promised, lacing his fingers through hers, his voice more genuine than she had ever heard it. "Of course we will! Trust me, I'd much rather be spending the whole evening with you. You're much prettier than all those dumpy old businessmen, after all," he joked, trying to lighten the mood a little, nipping at her nose playfully. "I wish I didn't have to go to this stupid business dinner at all. But you know how they are. Anytime I don't show up it's suddenly the end of the world." He sighed so heavily that it moved his shoulders up and down, obviously frustrated at something that he couldn't change, then gave her a much gentler expression when he turned to face her again.

"Business dinner?" queried Norma, resting her hands gingerly on his chest, feeling the skip of his heartbeat beneath her palms. She wrinkled her nose distastefully. "Not one of those again. I wish you could just play hooky and stay here with me instead."

He ran his fingers gently through her hair as he spoke to her. "Yeah, no kidding. We throw a much better party than they do, anyway." He gave her a quick wink, then added, his expression turning thoughtful, "Actually! Um, hey, I totally just remembered this, but uh, on the invitation, they _did _say that I was allowed to bring a guest. I'd hate to just drag you along with me against your will or anything, 'cause I know business is _really _boring - especially when you have nothing to do with what's going on - buuuut . . . if you'd maybe wanna go with me . . . ?" He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Norma bit her lower lip, thinking this over for a few seconds. He was certainly right; she'd been to a number of those business dinners with him before, and all of them had been distressingly boring. She'd sat by his side faithfully the whole night, as the lawyers and sleazy men around him smoked and drank themselves into oblivion and Oncie tried in vain to negotiate reasonable business deals with them. He knew how much she disliked them, which likely explained the dubious look on his face. But at least if she went with him to this one, she'd be able to spend Christmas Eve with him. And who knows? Maybe this one would be better since it was, in a way, kicking off the new year for so many companies. She ought to at least give it a chance.

Leaning forward and pulling him in for a tight embrace, she laughed and nuzzled against his cheek. He needed to shave again, she noticed with a giggle. "Of course I'll go with you," she told him, hoping that this would once and for all clear up this dark mood that he'd been in all afternoon. "That's just what we do, remember? We stick together, you and me. And if that includes going to super-boring business dinners with you, then that's just what it'll be. I don't mind at all. As long as I'm able to actually stay with you this time and not get dragged away by your mother," she laughed, resting her head on his chest.

"Yep," he answered, kissing her on the forehead. "I promise, I won't ditch you this time. That was just cruel and unusual punishment on my part last time. I'm sorry." He chuckled, but then his voice grew a little more somber as he tacked on, "I love you, Norma. A whole lot. Sorry that you're gonna have to spend your Christmas Eve _there_. I wish I _could _take you dancing."

"It's alright, Oncie," she answered for the upteenth time, stroking through his hair comfortingly. "Hey, if it makes you feel that bad, then maybe I should just start dancing at the business dinner anyway. Huh?" She smirked, humored by this mental image, and giggled, tickling him in the hopes to lighten up the atmosphere a bit. She grinned when he laughed, then leaned up on tiptoe to gently nip at his earlobe. "See? Cheer up, it'll be fine. If anyone knows how to bring life to a completely dull party, then it's us. Right?"

Finally seeming like he was back in a perfectly good mood, he nodded swiftly, beaming. "Hah, right! It's what we do best!" Energetic as always, he kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose, her eyelids. "I love you, Norma. Norma." He kept saying her name, just her name, in between kisses, making her heartbeat speed up, her every nerve ending tingle.

"I love you, too, Once-Ler," she whispered in return, wishing that he could _always_ feel this safe with her. She wanted everything for him. It was concerning that he hadn't opened up to her today and explained his feelings as much as he usually did. Was he feeling that he ought to hide from her? "You're safe with me," she said again, if only to comfort herself.

She tried her best to conceal her own unfathomable worry as he pulled her in for another slow, deep kiss.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two: A Night To Remember

The Once-Ler couldn't sleep, and he hated it. Because lack of sleep meant more time to lie awake and think. And thinking meant that he had to face those thoughts that had been needling him in the back of his mind all evening. It meant being alone in the darkness, with only his guilt and worry for company. He wasn't ready to face all that again, not when he'd been able to go for so long without having to trouble himself with his stupid factory's problems. It seemed that whenever one hole was patched up, so to speak, another one popped wide open, and he was scrambling to fix all of them by himself. He didn't want to think about all the responsibility that came with a job like that; he wanted nothing more than for sleep to spare him the pain of dwelling on it, but he was wide awake - had _been_ wide awake for hours.

Norma slept peacefully beside him, her head resting lightly on his shoulder. With each breath, her chest rose and fell; she was lying on her side, so he could see where her rib cage was expanding and contracting in rhythm. Inhale, exhale. He watched the movements intently and tried to match the slow rhythm of her breathing, hoping that it would lull him off to sleep, as well - or at least distract him from the _other _things he had yet to think over. This was an odd change of position; Norma was every kind of a night owl, and the Once-Ler usually fell asleep the minute his head hit the pillow. Normally, s_he_ was the one that would stay up with him, and now it was the other way around. He doubted very seriously, however, that Norma had ever had this much weighing on her conscience at night.

After everything that had happened to him today, he almost didn't know where to _start _when it came to mulling over the day's events. There was, of course, the argument between himself and his mother, where she had made the cryptic, chilling remark that he was just like his father, just like _her_. And then the argument with the Lorax, which made him feel worse than he cared to admit. And then, what made him feel the _guiltiest_, the fact that he had hidden the truth about what was happening with his factory to Norma. After all, as much as he hated to admit that his mother had fooled him and gone behind his back, starting up the biggering once again, that was the sort of thing that Norma needed to know, too. Why _hadn't _he told her all about it today, when he'd had the chance?

Probably, he thought, because of his own stupid pride. If there was one thing that the Once-Ler hated more than anything else, it was having to admit when he was wrong. Especially around Norma; as much as he loved her, they both knew too well that Norma had a bit of a tendency towards "I-told-you-so"ing that often caused rifts between them. If he were to go to her and tell her that she had been right about his mother all along, and that he was wrong, then he was sure he would get an earful. What's worse, he knew how much she wanted him to feel comfortable around her, and she was doing her best to accommodate for him, he could tell. But he just wasn't ready to swallow his pride and admit that this was something beyond his control, something that the all-powerful Businessman couldn't take care of. Even if he knew he had to tell her eventually, he couldn't help but want to try to put it off for as long as he possibly could.

She'd be so disappointed in him. He knew it. Even if the biggering wasn't exactly his _fault_ this time around, she would still be so angry with him for not seeing the signs sooner. He honestly just hadn't noticed up until the Lorax pointed it out to him, and Norma would _not _be pleased with that oblivious attitude. Not to mention, he haaaaaadn't really been very polite to the Lorax. And he _knew _how overprotective she was of the Guardian of the Forest. She held the fuzzy orange man in the highest regard, and detested whenever Oncie brushed off his warnings so flippantly. He supposed it was just that she didn't know the Lorax like he did. She didn't see that behind all the smoke and mirrors, the Lorax was just a fraud, deep down. Magic powers. Yeah, right.

He reached out and gently stroked through her hair, though he was careful not to wake her with his motions. He sighed, his cheek resting against the pillow, and frowned a little as he watched her. He always _hated_ it when Norma was disappointed in him. Norma was kind, compassionate, intelligent, and always, of course, forgiving. If he always let down such a good, gentle person, then what did that say about him as a person? He had promised her the world, had given up everything to be with her, because he loved her more than anything. But no matter how much he loved her or wanted to be with her, he couldn't help but always feel as though she deserved much better than the likes of him.

What would he say to her about his mother, he wondered, about the fact that his company hadn't _really _slowed down production after all? What would the look on her face be like - to painful to bear? What would she _think _of him? She'd be completely appalled with him, wouldn't she? Yes, he could see it now. And he couldn't stand to think of it.

_Hmm_ . . .

His eyebrows raised upwards, and he blinked rapidly as an idea dawned on him. Well . . . it had taken him _this _long just to notice that the biggering was even happening, right? He hadn't even been able to tell until it was brought to his attention that the work was piling up almost impossibly again, or that the trees were falling faster than ever. He had been blissfully unaware - and now, Norma was too. And if the biggering really _was_ that difficult to notice, well then, maybe there just wasn't a problem to begin with! Maybe he'd just been going about it in all the wrong ways before! Right, he had nothing to worry about now! The biggering could just carry on as it was now, and it wouldn't be harming anything! After all, their sales were better now than they ever had been, and it was because they had been speeding along all this time. And they hadn't encountered any problems with the trees thus far. It worked out perfectly!

Something told him, though, that Norma wouldn't react very well to that decision. He could imagine it clearly: him just waltzing right up to her, announcing that he intended to keep biggering his company . . . aaaaaand then getting slapped very hard across the face. Norma was a non-violent person, but he certainly knew her to be capable of _finishing _an argument. She had it in her to be a little hot-headed, that was for sure.

So that was why he couldn't tell Norma. Not right now, at least. Not until after the Christmas business dinner, at the very earliest. He didn't want to argue with her anymore on this situation, and certainly didn't want to suffer one of her guilt-trip sessions, either. Maybe after the party, however, she would see that this biggering wasn't really a bad thing after all, and then he could break the news to her. She'd come around, he was certain of it. After all, things were going by much easier than they were before; this was definitely the right thing to do. The trees wouldn't be _put _there if they weren't meant to help people out, right? She could understand that. And it wasn't just about the fame and the success, not anymore. If he ever wanted to have a family with Norma, then he would need the money to support them both - anyone could see the reason behind that.

He would definitely tell her. Later. In due time. It just wasn't in the cards for him to come clean just yet, but he knew that he would. And she would understand that he was doing this for her - for both of them to have some security. They couldn't live in that dinky little cottage forever, could they? Especially not if they wanted children later on - which he knew for a fact that both of them did. How was he supposed to pay for a house? Heck, to cover the cost of living was a challenge these days, even for him, rich as he was. He hadn't seen any negative effects to the biggering lately, anyways, so it shouldn't even be an issue anymore. He was just doing what came naturally.

How bad could it possibly be?

* * *

Christmas Eve rolled around much faster than the Once-Ler had originally anticipated that it would. He had hoped that he would have a bit more time to think a little bit about the dinner, about what sort of businessmen would be there and how he ought to present himself. He always worked better in a stressful environment if he felt prepared; anytime that he felt as though he were grasping at straws, he became even more harebrained and erratic than usual. And that was an enjoyable sight for no one. Still, no matter how many times he reviewed his usual business tactics in his head, it didn't stop him from feeling the pressure. He was thankful that he would have Norma by his side, at least; among many things, she was a calming presence to him whenever everything else seemed to be chaotic. She was always there, always steadfast.

Which, of course, made the task of keeping his company's biggering plans a secret from her even harder and more guilt-trip-inducing than it ever had before. Great.

That evening, as they readied themselves to attend the party, they stood side-by-side next to a full-length mirror - purchased by Norma at the earliest opportunity, so she could see more easily if an outfit suited her or not - the Once-Ler adjusting his green-and-black striped tie, Norma snapping on a gleaming pearl necklace. She was wearing a glittering gold party dress, with sleeves that ended at about elbow-length, a neckline that swung low on her shoulders, and a skirt that belled out around her hips. She had chosen a pair of comfortable white stockings and black dress shoes to match, and was a vision next to the Once-Ler in his favorite emerald green suit. Her hair was even curlier than usual, but the wildness seemed to be tamed, into more manageable, looping ringlets.

"How do I look, Oncie?" she asked him, stretching out her hands as she spun around once, in front of the mirror, revealing that she wasn't entirely zipped up yet in the back. She giggled as she turned to face him. "I have to admit, I'm a little nervous - this is the first time I've ever worn something so . . . gaudy! It looks like something that someone like my mother or . . . or Jean would wear." She bit her lower lip, for the first time displaying some kind of self-consciousness around him.

"Y-You look . . . " he blushed, taking in her appearance, his eyes widening slightly. He swallowed hard, not wanting to appear as though he were 'undressing her with his eyes', but at the same time wishing to convey his interest. Giving her a small, lopsided grin, he cleared his throat, losing his nerve a little. "You look . . . you're so pretty," he finally decided to say, realizing he couldn't find adequate words to even _describe _how beautiful she looked right now. "I-I mean, you're _always _pretty but . . . but especially right now, dressed like that. You're just . . . wow."

She covered her mouth daintily and laughed at his way with words, but seemed pleased. "Zip me up?" she asked him, moving her fluffy hair out of the way of the zipper as she turned her back to him. "And if it gets stuck halfway, don't you dare say it's because of all that cherry pie we ate between the two of us yesterday," she snickered jubilantly.

"Whaaaaat? Never!" he cried with mock surprise. Stealing a kiss against her cheek, he added with a broad grin, "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I said something like _that_, huh?" He leaned down, kissing the exposed skin between her shoulder blades, then moved up to the nape of her neck. "Love yooooou," he said in a light sing-song as he slid the zipper into proper place, the dress's fabric settling on her body much more naturally now. "There you go."

"Thanks," she grinned, turning to face him, looping her arms around his neck. The light from the sunset streaming in through the windows threw off multicolored sparkles from the glitter on her gown. "I love you, too." She kissed the tip of his nose, then rested her head lightly on his chest with a sigh. "So! What's the evening got in store for us, then?"

"Uuuuummm . . . a long night of listening to my boring lawyers drone on about stuff that nobody else cares about? Oh, and in between that, there's the always-entertaining game called Let's Run Away from The Once-Ler's Mom." He looked genuinely thoughtful for a moment, his facial expression eliciting a loud laugh from Norma. When she started chuckling, he broke his composure and erupted into laughter, as well, smothering her face in kisses in between. "How does _that_ sound, huh? Way cooler than going dancing tonight instead?"

"Oh, definitely," said Norma, holding onto him tightly, blushing as his kisses moved down to her neck. Stroking gently through his hair, she added, "It sounds hair-raising. You know how your mother gets at parties. If we can manage to throw her off our scent for at least five seconds, then it'll be a miracle." She winked up at him, highly amused at the mental image this conjured up. "Maybe we'll be able to pull it off, though."

"Hey," he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers, a scheming little smile playing across his features. "Maybe we could play this out so we don't even have to spend any time there. We could just slip in there long enough for everybody to see us, aaaaaand then we can just sneak right out. Ride off into the wild blue yonder on the back of a noble white horse." He wrinkled his nose and laughed, sealing the deal with another kiss on her lips, his entire body surging with his typical energy.

"What a wonderful plan," she joked, ruffling his hair. "And I suppose Melvin is supposed to fill the role of 'noble white horse', is he?" She smirked humorously, then pulled him in for an even tighter embrace, laughing hard. "Oh, Once-Ler. Even though you drag me along to these hideously boring parties of yours, I absolutely adore you. I hope you know that. Everything about you, I just . . . " she sighed happily, nuzzling against his neck, "I just _love_."

A grin spread all over his face, and he returned her hug with just as much enthusiasm, his eyes alight. "Hey, now, I like the way you're talking," he laughed, winking. "All I can say is next time you're angry with me, remember what you're saying riiiiiight now, and then see if you still feel like yelling at me." The two of them laughed again, and he kissed the top of her head, trying to enjoy their last few moments of precious alone time together before they had to go attend that stupid party. He sighed and grew a little bit more serious as he said softly, "I wish we didn't have to go to this thing tonight, anyway. I wish we could just stay home . . . these people can't give business a rest, though, not even on Christmas Eve."

And, he thought with a guilty twist in his heart, neither could he. After all, as much as he liked to disassociate himself with all the slimy, sneaky businessmen and lawyers that crowded around him at all those parties and meetings and whatnot, he couldn't deny that technically, he _was_ one of them. He was the CEO of the most successful company around, and not only was his invention famous now, but _he _was, as well. Very few inventors actually became as loved and respected by the public as their inventions, and he knew he was lucky to have their favor. This made him an instant magnet for attention at all those parties, because he was also the youngest businessman there - they all thought him easily-manipulated. Maybe he _was_. But still, he had a choice to attend these business seminars and dinners; no matter how his mother threatened him and pushed him around, he was still the boss of his own affairs and didn't need her permission to go anywhere. And yet, he still crawled in submission to her, still craved her attention and approval. He was really no better than the rest of those men that he hated so much.

The fact that he was currently lying, not only to the general public, but to _Norma_, about his company's biggering, didn't exactly help his case, either. He supposed it didn't really redeem him that he _wanted_ to say something, he had just . . . chickened out of it. The night that he had found out about his mother's dealings with Wiggins Technologies and the secret expansion project, he had really originally intended on telling everybody, on making it known to the public what a snake his mother was. But, well . . . now he didn't really consider it a priority. Maybe his mother had been right about the company all along; maybe this biggering really wasn't such a bad thing after all. It seemed to be going by smoothly, so, there were no apologies to his fans or to Norma that were even needed! Everything was just fine! And if something did by chance go wrong, then Norma would be the first to know about it. He wasn't a bad person. He was no villain. Just a normal man.

Thankfully, Norma's voice pulled him out of his thoughts, sparing him the difficulty of having to dwell on his decisions for too long. Stroking his face lovingly, she murmured, "Don't worry, Oncie. I'm sure it'll be just fine. And who knows? Maybe it'll work out so that we don't even have to talk to a lot of people, after all. You and I have kinda become experts at dodging the business-dinner crowd that always shows up." She blushed and looked down at her feet shyly, then looked back up at him through a thick curtain of eyelashes. "I should hope you haven't forgotten _that_ fast."

In response to her statement, the Once-Ler felt his cheeks darken, as well. Oh, yes, he certainly knew what she was talking about. In the year-and-a-half that they had been romantically involved, they'd had a good number of business dinners to attend other than just this one. And all of them had been just as painfully boring as the rest, without the slightest change, even in the decorations or the people that showed up. So, to make things a little more interesting for themselves during the amount of time that they had to be there, they would often sneak off and find an empty corridor or hidden space and just kiss. Heavy, slow kisses, to take up as much time as possible. And then, when they had stood there long enough and kissed until their lips ached, they would just sit down in the corner and talk to each other until either someone happened to find them or it was time to go home. It was their favorite way to avoid everyone, and while he doubted that they would be able to pull it off this time, with so many people around, of course he couldn't forget it entirely.

"Course not," he mumbled, a tiny, somewhat awkward smile on his face. He swung his foot out and gingerly nudged her ankle, the grin on his face growing a little more playful as he added, a hint of mischief in his voice, "Of course, if you'd care to _remind _me . . . y'know, just to make sure and all . . . " he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, then laughed at the look on her face, leaning in and kissing her forehead. "You're so _cute_, y'know that?"

She chuckled, pressing a quick kiss against his mouth in return. "And you _think _you're cute," she answered, though there was still humor in her voice, light dancing in her eyes. "Something tells me someone's getting a little too big for his britches . . . and now he fancies himself as a comedian?" She rubbed her nose against his affectionately.

"What am I here for, if not to make people laugh?" he said dramatically, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

"Well, my only advice is, don't quit your day job, kid," she joked, reaching down to straighten his tie, a wickedly amused smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "At least, not until you learn how to tie a tie the right way, Oncie." She bit her tongue and giggled, patting him lightly on the chest.

"Heeeeeey, hey," he defended, jabbing her playfully in the arm before bringing a hand to rest upon his tie, covering her fingers with his. With an over-the-top, false wounded look, he raised his eyebrows and said, "To be fair, I can _tie _them just fine. It's the tying them _neatly _part that always confuses me."

Giving him a soft, adoring smile, she nestled into the curve of his shoulder and, hugging him tightly, murmured, "Aaaah, I don't know. I think I'd be pretty sad if you ever learned how to tie one completely effortlessly, anyway. It might sound a little weird, but it's . . . little things like that that distinguish you from everybody else in that whole room. And I love those teeny things, I mean, even if no one else notices them. Like how your leg bounces in the middle of meetings when you're bored, and how you sometimes drum your fingers on the desk . . . y'know, things like that. If you ever lost any of that, it'd be like losing a part of _you_." Sighing, she leaned in to kiss his neck, then grinned. "So I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't worry - it's endearing. I promise."

"Endearing, huh?" he laughed as he clung to her, breathing in the fresh, citrus-y scent of her hair, the familiar shampoo smell that he would know anywhere after living with her for this long. "Hmmm . . . " he bit his lower lip, looking contemplative, then grinned broadly, his eyes bright and sparkling as he added with a gleeful nod, "Yep! I think I could prob'ly live with that. It's better than anything else than you might call me, at least." He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, poking her in the rib cage.

Norma brought her hand to her mouth, her eyes widening, and she gasped with mock surprise. Batting her eyelashes over-dramatically, she smiled and shook her head, curly hair bouncing. "Why, Mr. Onceler," she breathed, the star-struck look on her face making their playfulness that much more effective, "I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Uh-huuuuuh," he said with a slow nod, looking like he believed her just about as much as he believed that a fluffy pink unicorn would come hurtling through the window, riding on the slipstreams of a rainbow. "Yeah. I _tooooootally _buy that." He smirked, folding his arms across his chest and looking superior for just a moment before softening and kissing her cheek. "I'll let it slide for now, though," he played, a gently teasing look on his face. "We've got us a party to get to right now, remember?"

Norma made a soft, playful noise of protest, wrinkling her nose. "Now _I'm _the one who doesn't want to leave yet," she sighed. Groaning, she pulled away from him slowly, smoothing out her dress and offering him a complacent smile. "I guess you're right, though. We'd better get going. Besides, the sooner we get there, the sooner we can get back home, right?"

"Mmm-hmmm," he said with a swift nod, looking incredibly pleased with this news. "Thank goodness, right? I'm sure I can get Ms. Funce-ler or some of my other employees to cover for us if we wanna take off a little bit earlier than everyone else. Remember," he said, waggling his fingers with a humorous grin, "I'm a big-shot now! I can pull strings with these magic fingers!"

Standing up on her tip-toes in hopes of matching his height, she reached up and laced her fingers through his, kissing his lips quickly. "Okay, Mr. Magic Man," she said, brushing his bangs away from his eyes and smiling delightedly as she watched the light reflect little silver speckles in his blue irises. "Let's take your magic fingers and go ahead and get to that party. Sound good?" She brought his hand down to her level, and kissed his knuckles softly.

"As good as going to this stupid dinner thing _can_ sound," he answered with a rueful smile. Kissing her hand in return, he released her and patted her lightly on the shoulder. "You don't need to wait up for me," he told her, reaching for his top hat and setting it atop his head as he spoke. "I've still got some things I need to get, so you can go out to the limo and wait for me in the car if you want. I'll catch up. It'll only take a minute." He winked at her, then gave her a jubilant wave. "Love you!"

"Oh. Okay, dear," Norma said with a nod. Waving in return, she strode briskly out of the cottage, turning over her shoulder for just a moment to call out, "I love you, too!" before she disappeared behind the front door.

The truth was, the Once-Ler had a bit of a plan for tonight, himself. It had been circulating in his brain for the past few weeks, ever since he had found out that he would be attending the business dinner in the first place. Perhaps this would be his and Norma's chance to create at least one good memory out of an otherwise boring night - at least, he _hoped _it would be a good one. He didn't even want to _imagine _the alternative. He knew himself to be a bit on the awkward side, especially when it came to expressing his feelings to Norma, so he could only hope with all his might that he didn't manage to screw this up for himself. He was a notorious perfectionist, and had planned out every last detail; normally, he was very fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants in everything that he did, content to go with the flow, so to speak. But tonight, he couldn't afford anything less than the most careful planning.

He headed over to his tiny bedside table, pushing aside all the clutter and junk that littered the surface. Clicking his tongue impatiently, he wiggled his fingers and opened the drawer, searching through the random mess until he found what he was looking for. He was lucky that he had managed to keep it hidden from Norma all the time that he'd had it; she loved to clean while he was out at work, and never hesitated to go pilfering through his dresser drawers. There was no privacy on Cleaning Day. At last, his eyes found what he was searching for, and he smiled with satisfaction. The Once-Ler reached for the tiny, black velvet box, holding it up to the light proudly for just a moment before surrupticiously slipping it into his pocket.

Either way, it was sure to be a night to remember.

* * *

The party was being held at the Greenville Community Center, an unassuming little building downtown that the town used for luncheons and modest get-togethers, mostly involving the Town Council. This was the first time that the venue had been used to host such a large, important business dinner, and they had pulled out all the stops. Norma, clinging to the Once-Ler's arm as they strode out of the glossy white limousine, hardly recognized the place. White lights were strung up all over the modest brick building, glittering statuettes and miscellaneous decorations all over the outside of the place. There was a table with assorted foods near the front door, and what looked like a few members of a T.V. crew were standing around it, picking at the fudge and cheese dishes. Cameras flashed everywhere; the entire town was rolling out the Red Carpet tonight, it seemed.

Norma's brown eyes widened behind her spectacles as she took in the scenery; she hadn't seen the place so jazzed up since prom night, when all the high school students had arrived with the fanfare of a king's court. She could only wonder what the _inside _must look like. She could see the light pouring in from the wide-open front doors, but the crowd was so dense inside that it was hard to see past them. Despite herself, an excited little smile tugged at her mouth. She knew that this was just preparations for the dinner afterwards, and the actual seminar wouldn't be nearly this exciting, but something about all the work that had went into making the place look beautiful warmed her heart. Her teeny hometown was finally getting some attention.

She looked up at the Once-Ler with a tentative grin, trying to gauge his reaction as he drank in his surroundings, as well. "So?" she asked, lifting her eyebrows, leaning into him a little. "What do you think of all this? Is it what you expected?"

"Uhm . . . " he laughed a little bit, looking every bit as stunned and impressed as Norma felt. "Nooooot really. Not at _all_, actually. I didn't realize a business seminar or whatever would be so, uh . . . _gaudy_. This is a lot less boring than what I was counting on." He rubbed the back of his neck, searching for the right words, and finally just decided on giving a low whistle, shaking his head. "It's pretty high up on the Wow-Factor, huh?"

Norma nodded. "I've never seen the place looking like this before," she breathed, anchoring herself a little closer to him, suddenly feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the grandeur of it all. "It's so strange. No matter how many of these parties we go to, I can never stop feeling so out-of-place at all of them."

Looking around at the ostentatious presentation all around them, the Once-Ler gave a dry little chuckle. "I know what you mean," he said, using his free hand to wave to the cameras as he spoke to her on their way in the building. Glancing alternatively between her and the paparazzi, he added, "It's like every time I start to think that maaaaaybe I'm getting a little bit better at this whole 'being a decent celebrity' thing, the universe kicks me where it hurts and says, 'there's no way _that's _happening'. You know?"

Norma looked up at him, and bit her lip. For not the first time in her life, she was having trouble saying that she agreed with the Once-Ler. He might not be able to see it, but she thought he was slowly but surely becoming every bit as much of a celebrity as the other people attending the parties with them. She knew that they typically tried to dissociate themselves with the other businessmen at the business dinners they went to, but she could still see that their words were constantly influencing him, nonetheless. She thought that he was more business-savvy and inclined towards a famous lifestyle than she would ever care to admit to him, especially now, of all times.

No, she was determined to make tonight a pleasant one - well, as pleasant as it _could _be, with their constant game of keep-away from Susie Once-ler. It would be a miracle if they didn't encounter her more than at least three or four seperate times tonight, despite their efforts.

Trying to keep things civil, she reached up and rubbed his shoulder, giving him an affectionate little smile. She tried not to squint too hard against the glaring camera flashes; even after a whole year of hanging around Oncie and trying to accustom herself to the constant media attention, it was still hard to get used to. "You'll be fine, honey," she assured him, grateful that they seemed to be getting closer to the front doors. "Trust me, I know you. You stress yourself out over these things, but everything always turns out alright at the end of the day."

The Once-Ler laughed, shaking his head with bare amazement. "Why is it," he mused, "that every time we go to a party together, you always end up giving me this same exact speech? See, it's things like that - you'd think I'd have gotten at least a little bit better at this by now." He shrugged his shoulders, looking sheepish, and for the first time in a while Norma caught a glimpse of the cute bumpkin with the guitar that she'd fallen in love with. Not what everyone _wanted _him to be.

If she were being totally honest with herself, Norma wasn't entirely sure if she _wanted_ the Once-Ler to get any better at attending these parties or putting up with businessmen like he wished he could be. Of course, she knew that it would make it a lot easier on him, and would boost his self-confidence; that was good. Great. All she wanted was for him to be happy, with everything, including himself. So that worked out just fine. But what she was frightened of was the day that he came to realize he was so good at business by himself, he might not need Norma to be by his side anymore. It was a ridiculous, selfish fear, and she knew she wasn't being very trusting of him by thinking that way, but ever since Arthur had just _ditched_ her out-of-the-blue, she couldn't help it.

"Well, maybe it's not that you're not getting any better at it, Oncie," she answered teasingly, "maybe it's just that you like hearing me compliment you so much that you're just _pretending _that you don't have a clue." She looked up at him, arching her eyebrow, and winked, smirking with amusement, trying to disguise her misgivings about tonight's business dinner.

The Once-Ler snorted with laughter, but the sound was drowned out by the strains of classical music on the inside of the building. They had approached the front doors, and the sound was wafting to where they stood in the entryway; Norma could see from where they were standing that it was fairly crowded on the inside, and the noise of people talking seemed to grow from a rumble to a roar the closer they got. Just before they made it inside, they were stopped by a young girl, no older than sixteen or seventeen, wearing a black tee shirt, black jeans, and a clunky, professional-looking headset. Her hair was dark and shaggy, streaked through with icy blue in the bangs. One of the crew members, probably.

"Hello, Mr. Onceler," she said, her voice high-pitched and curious, as though she were thrilled to be working with so many celebrities tonight. She held out her hand expectantly, adding, "Good to see you here. May I see your invitation, please?"

Oncie grinned, proud to be acknowledged. Peering at the girl's name tag around her neck, he took out the invitation from his pocket, and presented it to her with a flourish. "Heeeeeere you go, uh . . . Bernie," he said with a nod. "One invitation. Oh, and this is Norma, my guest," he said, throwing his arm around Norma's shoulder and presenting her happily. "Sooooo, are we cool here?"

Bernie's eyes widened, and she looked up at Norma, jaw agape. "Norma? Norma Harlow?" she gasped. Confused, Norma nodded her head slowly, not really sure where this was going. She didn't really _recognize _this girl, and yet, she seemed to know _her_. "Don't you remember me? It's me - Bernie Decker! We used to see each other at the library all the time!" The younger girl smiled, eager to start up a conversation.

Norma furrowed her brow, thinking about this for a moment. Now that she thought about it . . . her face _did _seem familiar. And then, after considering it for a few seconds, it hit her! Oh, yes! Of course she'd seen this girl before! It was the nickname that had thrown her off - the girl's real name was Berniece Decker, not Bernie, though they had indeed spent a lot of time together at the library in the past. Last time Norma had seen the girl, Berniece had been a quiet, shy little thing with huge glasses - and certainly hadn't had a blue streak through her hair. They were good friends, but they hadn't seen each other in a long time. Norma supposed she had just been so caught up in her own problems with her relationship that she hadn't gotten the time to talk to Bernie very often lately. As she realized this, her heart tugged guiltily, and she gave the girl a smile in return.

"Berniece?!" cried Norma, her eyebrows lifting with surprise. "I hardly recognized you! I can't believe - so you work here now? That's great!"

Bernie nodded her head eagerly. "Yeah, I got a part-time job as a part of the catering crew. See, I've actually been waitressing at Lazy Mayzie's, and they did the cooking for this place, so I sorta got in anyway." She shrugged sheepishly, then grinned, biting her lower lip as she glanced between Norma and Oncie. "I had no idea I would see you here, though! I mean, I figured that _he_ would be invited - " she glanced not-so-subtly at the Once-Ler, who looked flattered, " - but are you telling me that you're an inventor now too?" she laughed throatily.

Norma blushed, and she and the Once-Ler shared a secret look. He looked highly amused, but she could practically _feel _how flustered she must appear. She giggled and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, then caught herself, trying not to appear too silly and air-headed. "Oh, no, Bernie, actually, we're together. We've been dating for about a year now," she said proudly, lacing her fingers through his and secretly squeezing his hand. He squeezed in return, and she added, "I'm totally just in it to get into these parties." Snickering, she looked up at him, nudging him playfully.

"Riiiiiight. Well, maybe I should just start taking Melvin as my plus-one instead of you," he fired back, chuckling. Turning back to Berniece, he chimed in, "So, you guys know each other? Nice! Actually, yeah, I think I remember seeing you at some of the other parties and stuff. You were working at those too, I think."

Bernie nodded, her sterling earrings jingling. "Uh-huh! Yeah, these parties are always killer. I never thought I'd get to meet you here, though. You _or _Norma, really - but especially not someone as famous as the Once-Ler!" She grinned, thrilled, and said a little awkwardly, "This is gonna sound totally weird - and I'm actually not even supposed to do this, according to my boss, to any of the famous people - buuuuut . . . could you maybe swing me an autograph? I mean, not now, obviously, you're so busy, but whenever you get the chance?" She shot Norma an awed, disbelieving look, then turned to Oncie, who just looked nervous and a little embarrassed. But flattered.

Norma was used to this sort of reception around her boyfriend; even the members of her own family had been on the star-struck side when they had first met him. Still, it never failed to take her a little by surprise when she was faced with the evidence of his fame first-hand. The fact that people all over the place were so enamored with him, even people they hardly knew, was always a weird tidbit of information to have to take in. They acted like such ordinary people around each other, the whole My-Boyfriend-Is-A-Celebrity thing was even more unusual the more she heard about it.

"Uhm, yeah! Yeah, sure, that sounds good to me!" the Once-Ler said as politely as he could manage, though Norma could tell he was still taken a little off-guard by this reception, as well. Still, he seemed like he was thoroughly enjoying the newfound attention. Grinning widely, he nodded his head and added quickly, "You'll probably have to remind me later, though. I tend to get dragged around a _lot _at these party things."

Bernie looked vaguely entranced for a moment before the grumbling of the patrons in the line behind Oncie and Norma snapped her out of it. She gave them all an awkward smile, then turned back to face her friends, giving them an apologetic shrug. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got a ton of other people that need to be let into the building." She laughed tiredly, then waved them in, saying, "Bye for now, Norma! It was so good to see you again! Enjoy the party! Oh, and thanks again for the autograph thing, Mr. Onceler!"

The Once-Ler laughed and led Norma inside the Community Center building, looking positively ecstatic as he threw himself into the party with a renewed fervor. They strolled into the room and looked around at the crowd surrounding them; he sighed, and Norma was sure that he was just as uncertain of where to even _start_ that she was. People were dancing to the slow tempo of the Tchaikovsky the live string band was playing, drinking various obscure colored beverages, and chatting to one another. A little girl hung by the food table, eyeing the fudge with a light in her eyes. There was a unicorn toy in her arms that looked, if possible, even hungier than she was. Everything was so lively, so teeming with potential, that it was hard to pinpoint a place to begin talking to people. The seminar was sure to begin any moment now, so he had little time to waste.

"Wow," he breathed, somehow making the word three syllables. Clutching securely onto Norma's hand once again, he looked at her and laughed airily. "I've never seen so many people packed into one building in my whole life. Yeah, we're _reeeeeally_ gonna have trouble keeping away from Mom in this place."

Slipping her arm into the crook of his elbow once again, she leaned into him and smiled. "Like I said, nothing we can't handle," she reminded him, though it was mostly for her own reassurance this time; she'd never seen so many people all in one place, and it was overwhelming to say the least. Taking a cursory glance around the room, she clicked her tongue and observed, "Actually, I don't see her anywhere. Do you?"

Norma almost laughed at how excited the Once-Ler looked at this news. He looked up from where he had been staring down at his feet, narrowing his blue eyes as he glanced around the room. All around them, people strode briskly back and forth, conversing in little groups with one another, almost like high school again. Every now and then, one of them would jostle clumsily past Norma with a barely-murmured apology, grabbing her attention for a moment. For the most part, though, she watched the Once-Ler, waiting for him to guide her along and say what he wanted to do next. This was his place to be, not hers, and for the time being, she was content to be a follower - even though it was generally the other way around in their relationship.

"Uuuuh . . . I'm gonna say no. I don't see her around here, either," he finally answered, practically having to shout over the roar of the crowd around them. The music wasn't particularly loud, but this was certainly a talkative group that they'd assembled into the Community Center, that was for sure. "But you know how she is. She always just seems to show up, just outta nowhere."

Groaning, she nodded and agreed, "Yeah. Unfortunately. Well, we'll just have to keep on our toes, I guess," she reasoned, shrugging her shoulders and looking up at him, eyebrows raised. "Now, with that in mind, what do you suggest we do first? We can't just wander around all night." She couldn't help but chuckle awkwardly as she said this, though; it seemed like it was actually the only option either of them could think of, considering that they only had at least ten minutes or so before everything got serious and the meeting began.

An enthusiastic spark entering his eyes, Oncie suggested, "I could always go get us some drinks or something if you want. I mean, I'm nooooot really thinking _alcohol _is the best idea since I've gotta do some talking at this meeting in a little bit and don't wanna make a total idiot of myself. But I'm sure they've got water or soda or something we can drink. If you want. I mean, we might as well kill time somehow, right?"

"That's fine," replied Norma, blushing. She almost giggled as she realized that the two of them were behaving just as awkwardly as they had when they had first started dating. Their first few dates had been absolute havoc, what with Oncie's constant need to be up and about, doing something, and Norma's need to have a plan. He was much more go-with-the-flow than she - and although sometimes she resented it, this evening it was appreciated. "In the meantime, I could go find us seats at one of these tables. It looks like they're going fast."

The two of them looked around the room, and she heard the Once-Ler sigh beside her. The entire setup was a bit like a glorified cafeteria; there were several circular tables all around the room, and about five or six people each were gathered around them, chatting and waiting for the seminar to start. Most of the tables in the center of the room had already been taken up, but there were still a few on the corners that were available. They'd have to be quick about it, though, unless they wanted to lose their seats to people who had arrived after them.

"Oh! Man. Yeah, you're right - it's gettin' kinda busy here," he said, nodding quickly. His eyes enlarging just a bit, he bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet, then turned to her and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Okay, uh, I'll be right back, alright? I'll come find you. You go get us some seats. Love you!" He kissed her quickly on the forehead, once again abuzz with his usual energy, and headed off in the opposite direction.

Norma giggled and waved in return, then turned around and headed towards the tables. It didn't take long for the crowd to swallow her, closing in all around her as she strolled about to choose the proper place to sit. She saw an empty table and headed for it eagerly, seeing as her feet were killing her. She was stopped in her tracks, however, when she saw who was sitting there, and thought twice.

"Oh, why, Norma Harlow! How nice to see you _again_." Oh, great. Now she _couldn't _leave - he had seen her. Too late.

Arthur Wiggins. And he looked just as smug as ever.

* * *

As much as the Once-Ler loved Norma, it was good to be able to get away from her watchful eye for just a few seconds, just long enough to clear his head. It was hard enough to hold a coherant conversation with her when all this other noise and commotion was carrying on around them; it only made it twice as difficult to talk to her when he couldn't get his plan for tonight out of his head. He could feel the little box sitting in his pocket like a lead weight, almost burning a hole in the side of his leg. His stomach flip-flopped with nervousness, and he gulped nervously. What would he even _say_ to bring it up? How would he go about it? And more importantly, what would _she_ say?

He took a deep breath, exhaling through his mouth, and willed himself not to think about it. It was just his nerves working against him. He was already on edge because of this meeting, and he certainly didn't need thoughts about his relationship with Norma to make him any uneasier than he already felt. He edged over to the drink counter, wrinkling his nose against the heavy scent of alcohol in the air, and did his very best to concentrate on the task at hand. Right. Tonight was a business night. If he was going to make a lasting impression on the people here tonight, then he would need to be in the right frame of mind to do so.

He had to hand it to his mother, though. She _could _throw a pretty mean party when she really put her heart into it. The place was really impressively decorated, with glittering lights strung from the ceiling and hanging down like crystals, almost like prom night. The band playing on the stage was dressed impeccably in black dresses and suits, looking every bit as professional as they had claimed in their advertisements. Their money had been well-spent for this occasion, it seemed. It was difficult indeed to _not _get distracted by the dizzying beauty of it all. He would have to take notes for the next time that Thneed Inc. was chosen to host a business dinner.

He approached the counter and grinned at the young man tending the bar, a freckle-faced youth with scruffy ginger hair, tall and gangly. At the moment, he was busy mixing what looked like a margarita or some other cocktail, his hands moving quickly, his eyes narrowed. There was another man at the bar, considerably older than the Once-Ler - and wider around the middle - who was waiting for his drink. When the bartender handed the drink to the patron and the money exchanged hands, the young man turned to look at Oncie, raising his eyebrows. He looked just as bored as the Once-Ler was doomed to feel once the meeting actually began.

"Yeah?" he asked, his tone of voice polite, but intensely disinterested. "Can I help you, sir?"

_Sir_. Gosh. The Once-Ler's heart never failed to thump just a little bit harder whenever he heard himself called that. He swelled with pride, a smile on his face, his cheeks flushed with pink. It was hard to believe that a year ago, he had been struggling so hard to get by, and now people got paid to be nice to him and call him _sir_. Okay, it might not have been a big deal to anyone else in the room, and he was probably overreacting hugely - but after being ridiculed for so long, it felt good, all the same.

Snapping himself out of his own ridiculous little reverie, Oncie nodded and drummed his fingers against the countertop. "Yeah, uh . . . weird question here. Doooooo you guys happen to have something to drink that's not, um . . . y'know, alcoholic?" He tilted his head to the side slightly, pulling a questioning face. "Just wondering. I-I mean, it's totally cool if you don't," he stammered, trying to play it cool so he didn't at least look like a child. "I just thought I oughta ask."

The bartender did not seem in the least bit impressed. He sighed, looking thoroughly exasperated, and replied in a deadpan, "Uh-huuuuuh. Look, we've got lots of fountain drinks over here. Dr. Fizzy, pink lemonade, energy drinks. And we've always got water, if you want that." He shrugged his shoulders, idly scratching his fuzzy chin hairs.

"Oh!" said the Once-Ler, lifting his eyebrows. "Oh, yeah, water. Water is good. Could I have two of those, then, please?" As he spoke, he fished in his pocket for his wallet, buzzing his lips absently and trying to ignore the snickering of the older gentlemen surrounding him at the bar. Still, he couldn't help it when his cheeks reddened involuntarily, despite his efforts to remain nonchalant.

The rotund man sitting to Oncie's right gave a throaty laugh that jiggled his belly, taking another swig of some dark brown liquid before saying, "Somethin' tells me this puppy's a little bit too young for the strong stuff anyway, Brian." The man gave the Once-Ler a cursory glance, beady eyes narrowed. "I've seen you some in the news. Thneed guy, right? How old are you exactly? Eighteen? Nineteen?"

The Once-Ler scoffed indignantly, folding his arms across his chest. Normally, he wouldn't even bother with someone so clearly eager to antagonize him, but he couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed and slighted by the comments. Maybe it was exactly the type of reaction this man wanted; at this point, Oncie could hardly bring himself to care. "Twenty-three, thank you very much," he said, drawing himself up to full height. "Aaaaaaaand, sorry, buuuut I don't exactly know you, so I'm gonna just take my water and leave."

The bartender slid two glasses of water across the table; they left tracks on the sleek wood from where the glasses were sweating. Oncie picked one of them up, taking a sip, half in an attempt to calm himself down. The other man was obviously disappointed that he hadn't gotten more of a reaction from the young businessman; he stood up from his chair with a huff, brushing off his shirtfront and straightening his tie. Just as Oncie was about to set down his glass of water, the bigger man brushed past him, purposefully nudging his shoulder against the green-suited man to knock him off-balance. The Once-Ler gasped and stumbled forward, incredulous, too late to stop the spill from happening. He lost his grip on the glass and it landed with a clatter on the ground. He winced. _Jesus, what is this, high school? _he thought, throwing a contemptuous scowl in the other man's direction.

"Shoot," he spat under his breath, his cheeks glowing with mortification. People only stared for a moment, though, thankfully, before returning to their own conversations.

Just as he made to kneel down to clean up the mess, however, a voice stopped him, nasally, with a bit of a lisp. "Oh, no, wait a minute, Mr. Onceler! I'll clean that up for you!"

Oncie, half-stooped to the ground, looked off to his left side, where a young man was scuttling towards him, a towel and a trash bin in hand. He was incredibly, unbelievably short - he probably wouldn't even come up to the Once-Ler's knees. His hair was inky-black and glossy, swishing to and fro as he moved forward as fast as his stubby, eager little legs would carry him. The bangs were especially odd: It was like a giant chunk had been cut out right above his eyebrows. His eyes were tiny and very close together; all of his features seemed to be gathered right in the center of his face. He had a wide, triangular head disguised by oversized eyeglasses. He wore clunky metal braces, and a gray janitorial uniform.

"Oh, uh . . . thanks," replied the Once-Ler, still distracted by his own personal embarrassment, even as the young man began to wipe up the water on the ground. Feeling a little awkward, he teetered there awkwardly for a moment before adding, "Hey, are you sure you don't want any help?" It was mostly just to be polite, but he still couldn't help but feel a little sheepish as he said it; kindness was odd and out-of-place here, with all these sleazy businessmen.

"No, no, I've got it," he insisted, though he didn't even bother to look up as he picked up the shards of broken glass and tossed them into the trash bin. When he had for the most part finished cleaning everything up, he straightened up and turned the full force of his excited grin onto the Once-Ler. "There you go, sir! Enjoy the seminar - oh, I could pay for another glass of water for you, if you want!"

Mildly surprised by this offer, the taller man blinked and raised his eyebrows so high that they almost disappeared behind his disheveled bangs. Well, he certainly hadn't expected _that_. Members of the staff hadn't ever been so polite to him before - when did this behavior start? "What?" he said, giving his head an incredulous little shake. "Wha - no! No, that's totally fine, you don't have to do that for me. I was mostly just getting a drink for my lady, y'know," he added with a laugh, picking up the extra glass of water that he had ordered. "I was just heading back to my seat now, anyways. Thanks, though."

"Oh. Okay!" replied the shorter man, still eager as ever. "But if you change your mind, sir, just come and find me! I'd be happy to treat you! See, I-I'm your biggest fan!" He sniffled ashmatically as he stared up at Oncie, but the grin never wavered from his face.

"Really," responded the Once-Ler half-heartedly as he headed back to find his and Norma's seat. His eyes carefully scanned the room, and so he was temporarily distracted from the conversation this man was trying to hold with him. "You don't say."

Still, despite Oncie's obvious disinterest, the short fellow was relentless. "Oh, yeah! Definitely, sir! My name's Aloysius. Aloysius O'Hare. I'm working here as a sort of temporary thing, you know how it is - fill up that old resume of mine 'till I can get some really good work. I'm really just here to get noticed. I'm an inventor, too, y'know! Just like you!"

"Are you?" the green-suited man's voice came out clipped, a little impatient, causing Aloysius to flinch a little. "That's great. Best of luck to you," the Once-Ler added, trying to make it sound a little better, but it didn't work, considering how stressed he sounded.

"Y-yeeeeeah," replied Aloysius, the bold-faced enthusiasm slipping from his voice, replaced with a bitter disappointment. Obviously, he had wanted it to go a little better than this. "Hey, maybe sometime, I could show you some of the ideas I've been working on! You know your plans for Thneedville you're working on now? The ones you unveiled at Thanksgiving? I've got some _great_ ideas that could really improve your - "

"That's awesome," the Once-Ler cut in, trying to make his voice sound at least politely enthusiastic. It was a struggle; all this noise and chatter around him was started to annoy him, to say the least. "Listen, uh, it's been _really_ great talking to you," he explained hurriedly, "but I'm gonna go get to my seat now. Alright? Um - thanks for the whole water thing, anyway."

O'Hare's face fell at this reception, his mouth twisting into an angry scowl shortly after. Oncie felt a brief pang of guilt as he waved goodbye and strode off in the opposite direction; he knew how it felt to be an aspiring inventor, so eager to share all your ideas with the world, only to be rejected and ignored. So he felt conflicted about having to cut the conversation short, but he really needed to find Norma if he wanted even a moment of peace before the seminar began. Not to mention, he had finally spotted where she was sitting, and wasn't pleased in the least bit that Arthur Wiggins was sitting beside her. He should have figured that that blonde, money-crazed megalomaniac would've found a way to back them into a corner. He groaned and rolled his eyes, sighing as he weaved through the crowd.

When he finally made it back to their seat, he handed Norma the water and sank into the chair beside her. Arthur was sitting across from them, looking as arrogant as always. Oncie knew himself to be horribly clumsy and not in the least bit strong enough to satisfy the thought, but he wanted to punch him, anyway.

"Aaaah, well here's the man of the hour," said Arthur with a low, predatory chuckle. "The Once-Ler himself, finally choosing to grace us with his noble presence. You know, sir, Norma was _just _telling me all about how you've slowed down the thneed production at your factory," he said with a knowing smirk.

The Once-Ler's stomach leapt into his throat. He clenched his jaw, glancing first to Norma, who was looking down at her lap, clearly hating Arthur's presence just as much as Oncie was. When he looked back at Arthur, he tried his hardest not to flinch. _Don't let him know you know something's up_, he coached himself, taking a deep breath. _He doesn't know that he's got me cornered just yet. _

"Uh, yeah," answered the Once-Ler as brightly as possible, propping his elbows casually up on the table, much to Arthur's silent-but-obvious infuriation. Smiling with false politeness, he trailed on, very pleased with himself, "Yep, I made that decision a looooong time ago. Surprised you didn't know about it, Arthur. I would've thought Mom had mentioned it to you."

He saw the recognition flicker across Arthur's face. It was brief, but gratifying. The blonde leaned forward on the table, sneering, keeping his voice level, just loud enough for Norma to hear, as well. "That's so funny, Mr. Onceler. Because I seem to recall your mother telling me something very different. In fact, it would seem that your so-called _slowed production _isn't really happening at - "

Thankfully, the music stopped at this point, the lights flickering off to accomodate for a giant projection on the wall at the far end of the room. A mircrophone clicked loudly to life, cutting off Arthur's sentence, and the whole room's attention was directed at the business seminar as the secretary greeted everyone and swung into the minutes from the last meeting. In the darkness, Oncie laced his fingers through Norma's, and she squeezed his hand in return; though every time he caught her eye, he couldn't help but see a sudden sadness and worry there. And it frightened him.

* * *

The dinner commenced shortly after the meeting had adjourned, giving Norma and the Once-Ler just enough time to slip away from Arthur. They walked down to the opposite end of the room, heading down a narrow hallway nearby the kitchen, hoping that nobody would see them. Hand-in-hand, they strode briskly along until the sound of chefs clanging around in the kitchen in the next room over was loud enough to disguise them. This way, no one would find them in their hiding spot. Thank goodness for that, too; Norma had found everyone that she'd met so far to be incredibly boring, and she refused to be caught up in a boring conversation.

They had barely even stopped walking before Oncie leaned forward, brushing his guitar-callused fingers along her cheekbones and bringing her in for a slow kiss. She reached up and stroked the nape of his neck, feeling his own relief and happiness at being together wash over her. For a few moments, this tenderness between them was almost enough to clear away all the worry and doubt that had built up in her heart ever since she'd heard what Arthur had said to him earlier, at the table.

Could it really be possible that his factory hadn't slowed down production of thneeds, after all? She had no reason to believe that Arthur would ever tell the truth, of course, but she had seen the look on the Once-Ler's face. That had been enough to put the doubt in her heart. He wouldn't have reacted that way if there wasn't something that he knew that he wasn't telling her. She didn't want her trust in him to be shaken, especially not right now, when she could practically _feel _how much they loved each other. But she still couldn't help but be worried; she knew Oncie was impressionable to a fault. What if his mother or someone else had convinced him that biggering was a good thing, that it wouldn't matter?

"I love you," he murmured next to her ear as he continued pressing soft little kisses all over her face and neck. He'd always been a bit of an erratic kisser, the type to get so caught up in emotion that he forgot himself for a while. It was one of the things that Norma adored most about him; even his voice seemed to change a little when he talked to her during these moments. It was softer, more reverant than it would ever be in normal conversation. "Norma. Norma, I love you so much."

"I love you, too," she answered adoringly, forgetting for just a few seconds her own misgivings about his factory. His work didn't matter right now; only him. "You're everything to me, did you know that?"

The Once-Ler smiled, the first genuine smile she had seen him give all night, and pressed his forehead lightly, lovingly, to hers. "I'm so glad to hear you say that," he whispered, grabbing her hands gently. "Even back when we were just friends, I wanted so bad to mean that much to you, 'cause that's what you've always meant to me. You always w_ill_, too." He pulled her in for another kiss, making a soft, longing noise in the back of his throat. "A-and listen, I can tell you're still a little worried about . . . about what Arthur said - "

"Sssshhh, shh, no. No, it's alright. Don't worry, Oncie." She stroked his cheek comfortingly, pulling him in close again, reveling in his warmth. Regarding him very somberly, brown eyes meeting blue, she added, "I want you to know that I trust you. Okay? I trust you." She gave him a small smile, and willed herself to believe what she was saying. In an instant, her heart lightened, just from the force of the words themselves. She could trust him with this. He wasn't a baby; she _would_ trust him with this.

It was silent between them for a long while. Norma gulped, her breathing shaky, and hoped he could not hear her heartbeat pick up when he looked at her with such deep affection and love in his eyes. She felt the dark crimson blush spread across her cheeks, her hands trembling as he held them in his. Somewhere deep down, she figured that she might not ever get used to this, being so close to him and feeling something so strongly just for one person. It was always overwhelming, especially when she realized how much everyone else in the whole world loved him too. He could have anybody in the world he wanted, and he chose _her_. He loved _her_.

Oncie seemed surprisingly nervous as he reached in and brushed his fingertips along her cheekbones, bringing her in for another kiss. His hands, she noticed, were trembling almost imperceptibly. A new sort of softness had taken over every movement, and when he broke away from the kiss, he beamed down at her; he looked just as dorky and goofy as ever, but there was a light in his eyes that she had never seen there before. Turning even redder than before, he took a deep breath, as though he were steadying himself, and began speaking, charging through his words with his usual awkwardness.

"O-Okay, good," he said with a nod, trying visibly to relax his shoulders, though it seemed that his efforts were in vain. "But I just want you to know anyway, that I love you a-and I don't ever wanna do anything to hurt you, _ever_. You know that, right?" Without even waiting for her to answer, he pressed on. "'Cause you're my best friend, Norma. You're the most important thing to me in my whole life, a-and I don't know what I'd even _do_ or who I'd be without you. You know me even better than I know myself sometimes, I think - especially these days, with all this factory stuff. And . . . and I, um . . . " he paused in his impassioned speech for just a moment to dig through his pants pocket, looking flustered. Finally, he fished out a velvety black box - a jewelry box.

Norma's heart stopped. Was this seriously happening right now?

"Oncie?" she breathed, pointing to the box. "I-Is that - ?"

He opened the box, regarding her very seriously, and her heart danced up into her throat. It was an engagement ring, simple and elegant at the same time, a brilliant sterling silver that glinted when it caught the light. A rounded-off diamond winked at her from inside the box, rainbows catching in the prisms. Even as minimalistic as it was, she knew that it must have cost him a lot of money; the Once-Ler was a notorious big-spender in all things, but especially his girlfriend.

Oncie stumbled down to one knee, his eyes still on her all the while.

"Marry me, Norma?"


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three: Mr And Mrs

In addition to a long, long list of other problems she had faced so far today, Norma's wedding dress was torn at the bottom.

She'd always thought that those rich, spoiled brides on reality television shows had been so dramatic when they'd started crying and whining about how their special day wasn't going just how they had planned it. Why throw a fit? she'd always wondered. At least they were getting married, right? And while she still felt that that sort of behavior was entirely uncalled for in any case, she had a little bit more understanding of the situation now. Any lady that could keep herself from going crazy in the midst of all these mishaps really _was_ a superhero. Now it was Norma's chance to prove that she could handle it, too.

And what a challenge that was turning out to be.

To start the mishaps off for the week, some of Norma's extended family was coming into town from far away for the wedding. They were a lovely group of people: her paternal grandmother and grandfather, her aunt and uncle, and her three cousins. But they were also, unfortunately, incredibly clueless and gullible. On the trip down to Greenville, they'd managed to get themselves scammed out of at least two or three credit cards between all of them. And then, once they'd arrived in town, they'd had such a difficult time trying to find a hotel that Norma's mother had finally just decided to reserve a room _for _them. So, in the middle of all the preparations for the ceremony, they'd also had to deal with getting back Grammy Harriet's and Uncle Peter's stolen credit cards. How lovely.

To make matters worse, the live band that they had hired for the reception had quit last-minute. One would think that any band the Once-Ler, as famous as he was, had connections with would be loyal and professional. This was not the case with this particular group. Norma had been absolutely smitten with their smooth vocals and soft sound, and had been looking forward to sharing her first dance as a married couple with Oncie to the sounds of their music. But this morning, they had called to let her know that they had been offered another "gig" that had a bit better pay. Oncie had put the power of his wallet to the test in an attempt to haggle with them, but even his best efforts hadn't worked out. So now they needed to find someone else to hire for entertainment, too.

And to round it all off, Jean and Louise Harlow were both sick with the stomach bug. It had been going around the house all weekend - even Norma had had a nasty bout of it a while ago, though thankfully it had passed quickly - and her mother and sister had been claimed as the latest victims. While naturally, she was very worried about them, and hoped that they would recover as quickly as possible, she couldn't help but be a little stressed out about Jean's place in the ceremony. She had _insisted_ upon being Maid of Honor, but how would she able to do that now, when she could hardly stand? Norma had been running back and forth between her and Mother all morning, trying her best to take care of them and keep them comfortable, while at the same time getting dressed and ready, herself.

If _her_ family's situation was this out of hand, she could only imagine what sort of day the Once-Ler must have had so far. She shuddered to think of it.

It had been a year since the Once-Ler had proposed to her at the Annual Business Seminar - admittedly, not the most romantic setting, but Norma wasn't complaining one bit. And during that year, they'd, needless to say, experienced a mouthful from Susie Once-ler about how much she disapproved of the engagement. On more than one occassion, Oncie's mother had said directly to Norma's face that she thought Norma was a bad influence on Mama's Little Boy. (Norma, of course, _had_ to laugh at that - there was no one out there who was _worse_ for the Once-Ler to be around than his own mother.) The rest of his family seemed, thankfully, fairly indifferent to the idea, but Susie had been furious and adamant for an entire year, sometimes not even speaking to her son for weeks on end.

At first, Norma had been a little concerned by this behavior. After all, she knew how impressionable the Once-Ler was, especially when his mother was involved. She influenced him so easily, knew exactly what buttons to push to get him to do whatever it was that she needed him for. It was painful to watch, and for a while, Norma had feared that maybe Susie would get to him about the engagement, too. What if, after Susie needled him about it enough, dangled it over his head like a dead mouse for a cat, she actually convinced him to break off the engagement? That thought had frightened Norma more than she cared to admit.

And Oncie had noticed.

One night, when they had been settling down, ready to go to bed, Norma had snuggled in beneath the covers and clutched onto his arm as he sifted through a business textbook that his mother had given him for his birthday. (She had noticed with a blush that he looked older when he was reading; perhaps it was because of the angle of the shadows in the room hitting his face, but it had intrigued her to see him looking so mature and still so childlike and vulnerable at the same time.) She had stayed like that for a while, holding onto him, leaning her head against his shoulder, running her finger along the space on his finger where his wedding ring would one day be. And then he had shut the book with a resounding snap, turning to face her, eyes wide and concerned.

"Okay. Spill," he had said, using his typical goofy, wisecracking personality to cover up for how truly worried he had been. "Norma, I know you. You don't act like this with me unless something's really _up_. Should I be worried? I'm serious."

She had bitten her lip and hesitated for just a moment. At last, she'd ended the mental war with herself and sighed, relinquishing her secret fears. "It's nothing, really. It's just that . . . " she had looked down at her hands, then back up at him, stalling as she tried to collect her thoughts. "Once-Ler, you love me, don't you?"

As soon as the words had come tumbling from her mouth, she had regretted them. She'd seen the hurt as it had flickered across her husband-to-be's face, as if she had just reached out and struck him. His face had reddened, and he'd looked at her with such a heartbreakingly confused expression on his face that Norma had instantly wanted to stuff her words right back down her throat. Why had she gone and told him something like that? She had known when she was saying it that it would hurt his feelings. She'd just always been blunt like that; it couldn't ever be helped.

"Wh-what?" he'd mumbled, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "You mean you still have to ask me if I love you or not?"

"N-No!" she had insisted, shaking her head quickly. Waving her hands complacently, she had stammered, "No, it's not that at all, Oncie. You don't understand. I-I know you love me, I really do, it's just that . . . " she had taken a pause to search for her words and sighed, defeated, when the right ones wouldn't come. At last, she had said, "I guess I just need to hear it every now and then." She had offered him a rueful smile. "I really shouldn't act like that to you - I'm sorry. I think I'm just . . . "

"Nervous?" he had finished, softening just a little. "About the wedding, I mean." He had reached for her hand, interlacing their fingers, and had swiftly kissed her engagement ring. "Don't worry. Me too. Just a little. But, hey. It'll all be okay, you'll see - this is the best choice we've ever made, I think." With the same irrational optimism as always, he had nodded and given her a bright smile. "Aaaaaaaand, just so you know, I _do_ love you. A whole lot. I can't _wait_ 'till we're married."

Norma had replayed those words countless times, over and over again, in her head this past week, keeping herself tethered in the middle of all this chaos. He always seemed to know exactly what to say to make her feel more at home and comfortable, no matter the situation. She didn't know if it was just his natural dorky, goofy sort of charisma, or if he just worked especially hard to be that helpful to her. Either way, she was immensely grateful for everything.

Her _husband_. He was going to be her _husband _soon. Even after a whole year to prepare for their wedding day, it was still wild to think about it. He was almost twenty-four now, and she would be turning twenty-one soon, herself, but still - that was an incredibly young age to be getting married. They promised each other up and down, all the time, that they wouldn't make the same mistakes their parents had made, that they would be their own couple and always be strong. But Norma couldn't help but be a little more nervous for what awaited them in the future. She was _excited_, yes - she didn't want anything else in the world but to be married to him. But it was still a lot to think about.

After all, Louise and Martin Harlow had gotten married considerably older than Once-Ler and Norma, at about thirty years of age. If her parents had been disapproving of her moving in with the Once-Ler, then that was nothing compared to their initial reaction when they had learned of the engagement. Times had changed, though, since Norma's parents' days - people were getting married much younger now, and it was just a universally-accepted thing. There was nothing wrong with it, but it still took her mom and dad by surprise, nonetheless. Norma supposed it was just some sort of weird culture-shock for them, so she tried to be as easy on them as she could about wedding details.

Still, they'd managed to work things out, talk it out and plan amongst themselves, and eventually Norma's family had come around to the idea a little more than before. Having their approval did help Norma to keep herself a little more stable whenever it threatened to get too overwhelming, but it didn't help it feel any more real than before. It felt like a dream, a very good one, and she was still nervous that she might wake up soon. But right now, reality with the Once-Ler was actually better than anything that she could ever dream up.

A knock on her hotel room's front door drew her out of her thoughts.

(They were having the wedding just on the outskirts of Greenville, in a quaint little church where Norma's father had grown up and had attended dutifully every Sunday. Norma was not so strict with her appearances in church, but it seemed fitting to get married in the same place that her parents had, years ago. Norma loved the romanticism of it. The hotel closest to the church wasn't the most glamorous place to stay, but at least it was some place that all her family could be together - even if two of the family members were ill.)

"I'm coming!" called Norma as she stood up from the stiff, uncomfortable couch in the tiny room. She grabbed the plastic remote control and turned the volume on the television down, a little embarrassed by how immersed she'd been in the latest episode of Jean's awful soap opera. "Just a second!"

She sighed, brushing some of her hair into place to make herself more presentable, and opened the door. It took her by surprise to see her sweet little old Grammy Harriet standing in the doorway, short and stout, with her white hair piled onto her head like a giant puffy snowball. She peered at Norma with a knowing glint in her eyes behind her half-moon spectacles. The old woman wore a glaringly yellow Hawaiian shirt with red hibiscus flowers patterned all over, and some very high-waisted khaki shorts. She wore bright pink slippers that made Norma's eyes hurt. Typical fashion for her adventure-seeking, eccentric grandmother - she had never cared much about matching.

"_Grammy_?" Norma said. "What are you doing here? Did you finally manage to find yours and Uncle Peter's credit cards?"

A mischievous smile graced the older woman's features, her laugh lines deepening, coal-colored eyes sparkling. "Your mother told me to come help you get ready, dear," she explained, her throaty, gravelly voice filled with a calm, collected attitude that Norma needed at the moment. "Your hair's already fixed, so that's taken care of, but it's time to get you into that dress. And then you can do your makeup, and we can head on over to the church! Sound like a plan, sweetheart?"

Norma nodded, greatly thankful that at least _one _person in her family had a single clue what they were doing right now. "That sounds perfect to me," she breathed, a little embarrassed by just how exhausting all this wedding-planning business was. Her mother had warned her that it would be troublesome, but she hadn't expected it to be _this _bad. "Um, my dress is laying on the bed over here," she added as she welcomed her grandmother into the room, closing the hotel room door behind her.

The two women walked into the room, and Norma led Grammy Harriet over to the bed. She gestured to her wedding dress, sealed tight in a plastic carrying bag and spread out on the bed; her grandmother gasped, her hands going to her mouth. Her eyebrows lifted up, and she looked at Norma with awe written all over her face.

"Oh, Normie, honey, it's gorgeous," she cooed, softening her usual tough-as-nails exterior to talk to her granddaughter. They'd always had a relationship like that; her grandmother put aside her eccentricities only for Norma.

"Well, _I _thought so, too," said Norma with a satisfied smile, nodding her head again to punctuate her sentence. "I've always wanted something like this for my wedding. Bold, but not . . . _too_ out-of-the-realm-of-belief. You know?"

The two of them faded into silence for a bit, and Norma used the quiet time to study the details of her dress. The dress, of course, was a traditional white lace fabric, but not all over. In the middle of the gown, there was a light, pastel-blue ribbon tied around the waist, making a bow at the small of her back. She liked the way it cinched her waist when she wore it. It was a long, flowing dress, with a swishy skirt that belled out at the waist, but not so grandly that she looked ridiculous or too princess-y. It had a high collar, and sleeves that flowered out at her elbows. The veil that she wore with it was a shimmery white, though thankfully it wasn't an incredibly long, elaborate one. She'd wanted to keep things simple with this wedding.

It was too bad that, with all this beauty, one could still plainly see that the bottom of the dress was torn.

It had happened at the most recent wedding rehearsal that they'd held just last week. They had decided that for this particular rehearsal, it might be fitting to practice actually _wearing _the dress - Norma had refused to do so up until that point, for fear that the dress might be ruined. How ironic. It had turned out that she had probably needed the practice more than she thought; halfway up the aisle, she had tripped over her long skirt and accidentally ripped a hole with the heel of her shoe.

Norma's mother had offered to fix it, but with all the other plans and things that they'd had to take care of lately, it had just been forgotten continually. Norma supposed it wasn't such a big deal - the hole wasn't _too _large, after all, so perhaps nobody would even notice. But she couldn't help but be stressed out over it anyway. It was just one more thing to worry over, really.

"Now, while I get you into this dress, I'd like to talk with you a little bit, my dear," said Grammy Harriet, pulling Norma away from her reverie. She leaned over and unzipped the bag containing the dress, holding the gown out and preparing it for her. "I have to admit, getting you all dolled up was only _part_ of the reason why I wanted to come down here today. Your mother might not . . . eehhh, feel _comfortable _with this conversation, but I feel that someone _has_ to say something . . . " her voice trailed off suggestively, and Norma's face was set ablaze.

Oh, no. She couldn't be really talking about what Norma thought she was talking about right now, could she? Sweet Grammy Harriet would not do that to her. She wouldn't have the heart to traumatize her like this.

" . . . but I wanted to have an open, frank discussion with you. You know me, Norma, darling - I'm nothing if not blunt. You can trust me to tell you the whole truth of certain . . . perks to married life."

Norma swallowed hard, giving her grandmother the benefit of the doubt for the time being. "Uhhh, sure, Grammy. What is it that you wanted to talk about, exactly?"

As Norma changed her clothes, she braced herself for what she was sure was coming. Her grandmother had never really been one for modesty when it came to discussions such as these, and while normally Norma found it amusing, even a little helpful at times, it was an entirely different feeling when _she_ was the subject of conversation. She sighed and scrambled to change into the dress as quickly as possible, feeling the chilly air conditioning prickle against her exposed skin. As she clambered into the gown, Grammy Harriet helped her with the sleeves. She was especially careful with her hair; it had been put into intricate curls just for the occassion, and she didn't want to mess them up.

"Well . . . not to put too fine a point on this, but . . . " she narrowed her eyes, giving Norma the infamous Look. She had learned it from her grandmother, and now used it freely, herself. It was twice as intimidating when it was turned against her. "How would you say your . . . _relationship _with this Once-Ler fellow is going so far?" She quirked her eyebrow knowingly, leaving Norma stunned.

"Wh-what?" she stammered, feeling her cheeks darkening by the second. "I'm not too sure what you mean, Grammy. Our relationship? It's fine. I'm marrying him, aren't I? Everything's perfectly fine with us." She hated how defensive she suddenly sounded; she supposed it was just the stress and everything else getting to her.

"No, no, dear, that's not what I meant," Harriet replied, laughing a little. As Norma eased into her wedding dress, the older woman went to start working on the buttons that ran all the way up the back of the garment. Her fingers were surprisingly nimble for her age. "I meant," she said as she worked, an utterly devious, delighted tone in her voice that made her granddaughter immediately apprehensive, "have you two been . . . _intimate_ yet?"

Norma jumped, aghast, her eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. If her cheeks hadn't been red before, they _definitely _were now. Did her _grandmother_ just ask her that? Seriously? Didn't _anyone _respect the values of a thing called _privacy_ anymore?

"Grammy!" she squeaked, unsure of what else she could even say. It wasn't every day that she was asked something like that - though she had to admit, from the old woman's tone of voice, she should have seen it coming. "What do you - I-I don't - of course not - I just, I - no! No, we haven't, if you _must_ know, b-but I don't really see why that matters right now!"

Goodness. She'd been given The Talk when she was thirteen years old. She'd already gone through that once before - did she really need to be put through that awkwardness on her wedding day, too?

Grammy Harriet seemed unfazed by her granddaughter's brusque reaction to the question. She shrugged her bony shoulders, still slowly working on buttoning the dress. "Well, obviously, it _is _relevant, you know. And you don't need to act so embarrassed - I might be old, but I know how the younger generation acts, Normie. I'm no fool. Besides," she gave Norma a friendly, corspiratorial wink, "I don't exactly have a clean record, either. I just thought that there might be a few things we should go over so that you know what to expect for _tonight_. First things first: prepare for disappointment. I can tell you - "

"Alright! U-uh, that's okay, Grammy, I actually don't reeeeally want to have this conversation right now," Norma cut in, saving herself the traumatic experience. She loved her Grammy Harriet, but her love life was hers to keep and Norma's was Norma's. That was how it ought to stay, too. On any other day she might not have been so uptight about it, but she was already so on edge right now that she didn't think she could handle any more tests of patience within the same hour. "I appreciate you trying to help," she amended awkwardly, "b-but I think I'll be okay. I think we'll both be just fine."

Harriet nodded, as if she had expected this exact response (knowing her grandmother, she probably had). "Okay, sweetheart," she replied, a note of defeat in her voice. She waved her hand complacently, her many rings glinting in the light from the lamp on the nearby bedside table. "If you insist. But you know if you change your mind, you'll be able to find me near the fondue table at the reception. Any other time you need me, well . . . well, I'm sure we'll find each other," she said after a moment's consideration.

"Of course we will," said Norma, a bit more kindly now that she had recovered her senses, despite the fact she was still blushing incredibly red. "I guess I did overreact a little bit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so tense, I've just had so much on my mind today. And of course I-I'm already nervous, anyway . . . " she passed her hand across her face with a weary sigh, biting her tongue to keep from saying anything else.

If she were being completely honest with herself, she _had_ thought about her wedding night - and thought about it often. And whenever the thought passed through her head, she had mixed reactions about it. Of course, there was excitement; she couldn't help but feel a certain wonder and thrill about what awaited her, and it never failed to make her stomach flip-flop restlessly, to make her entire body tingle with a longing to feel like someone's wife - like the _Once-Ler's _wife. And she had to wonder sometimes what he felt about it, if he would be ready, if it would be anything like what they had both expected it to be.

Underneath all that eagerness and speculation, however, there was a crippling nervousness that teased her just the same whenever she thought about it. Her wedding night presented not only the opportunity for something wonderful, but for something completely disastrous, as well. She had never been that vulnerable in front of anybody before, and even if she loved and trusted the Once-Ler completely, she had to admit, it was a scary thought, being so . . . out there for someone, even if they were dear to you. And of course, there were the classic tropes and horror stories of "first times" that she couldn't help but take into account.

She was far from innocent in that she knew about what went on in the world; she certainly wasn't naive. But she didn't have the personal experience, and that was what made her nervous more than anything else. After all, knowing the technicalities and understanding the hidden meaning behind sexual jokes was one thing, but actually being aware of what to do in . . . _that_ sort of situation was a different thing entirely. Almost like playing Guitar Hero and thinking that you could play the guitar, when they were really completely different in real life, she thought.

Norma blushed, and shook herself out of her thoughts. There was plenty of time to think about . . . intimacy and the like later. Right now, she had a wedding to attend to, and she couldn't be bothered to have very much else on her mind. Especially a train of thought as distracting and prone to derailing as _that_ one in particular.

"Oh, that's perfectly understandable, darling," said Grammy Harriet, still woking on the endless buttons along the length of Norma's spine. "It was like that when I married sweet Bertram." The old woman sighed nostalgically, remembering her short-lived marriage to her first husband, no doubt. The two had divorced shortly after the honeymoon, but she never failed to bring him up as an example in conversation when it was called for. "Anyhow, I thought you could at least use the girl talk, Normie. Since every other woman in your family is so . . . _modest_." She said the word with such an overdramatic shudder than Norma had to bite her tongue against a laugh.

Sighing so heavily that it moved her shoulders, Norma responded smoothly, "Well, I'm very thankful for the gesture, at least. Goodness knows that if my mother even tried to tackle the subject, she'd go into cardiac arrest before she could get a word out," she added with a sheepish, good-natured chuckle. "To be honest with you, I don't even know where we're going for our honeymoon."

"Ooh!" squealed Grammy Harriet, intrigued. "A surprise? How romantic! Yes, that's just what my Bertram did for me! We ended up going to the most glamorous hot springs resort . . . " her voice trailed off wistfully, and she stared off into the distance, as if she really were seeing her past play out right in front of her eyes.

(Some part of Norma had always suspected that even though things hadn't worked out with Grammy and her first husband, Harriet was still in love with Bertram. She had been married to Step-Grandpa Winston for years now, and they had children together, but she never seemed quite ready to let go of her first marriage. Maybe it was just a particular memory of a faraway time that made her feel younger.)

"Of course," Harriet continued, snapping out of her little trance of reminiscence, "that was _before _dear old Bertram took a notion to be so stubborn and unforgiveably crass. I suppose that's where it all fell apart, with all that arguing." Then, turning to Norma, she added cheerfully, as if she weren't noticing the gravity of her words, "You know, Normie, you and your hubby-to-be remind me quite a bit of Bert and myself, actually!"

Norma blinked, admittedly a little bit shaken by this. Every time her grandmother had told a Bertram story, it had always started out happy, but quickly spiraled downhill into a bad memory. Would that really be what her marriage to the Once-Ler would be like? She couldn't bear to think about it that way, but she had to admit, the thought frightened her more than she expected. After all, she knew that they argued from time to time, mostly about his line of work, but they always managed to make up in the end. There was nothing that was really creating a distance between them, even when their fighting was at its worst several months ago. She couldn't imagine anything even presenting the possibility of getting in their way like that.

Her stomach flip-flopped nervously as she glanced at the clock on the wall. Just a few more hours until she was officially Mrs. Onceler. His _wife_. And for the first time since he had proposed to her, she felt legitimately nervous. Her mind had been kept fairly occupied until now, with all the planning to do and then the little mishaps that had rolled in this week, but now that she was left to think about it, she couldn't stop her head from reeling, her hands shaking. She was sure that she wanted this, of course, it was just . . . intimidating to have to stare it straight in the face like that.

"R-really?" she answered, rubbing the back of her neck and giving a nervous chuckle. She wasn't sure whether or not her grandmother had meant the comment as a compliment, an insult, or just a polite observation, but she didn't think she wanted to find out, either. "You don't say, Grammy. I guess that's just the old family genes," she added, smiling so widely that it probably looked highly suspicious.

"Probably so." Well, if her smile was suspicious at all, her grandma didn't notice. "Aaaaand here we are," said Grammy Harriet as she finished fixing Norma's buttons, once again pulling her out of her thoughts. She'd had so much on her mind lately, it seemed like she was zoning out like that more than ever. "Finally got all these buttons for you. They sure put a lot of them on there for one dress." She spun Norma around to face the full-length mirror propped up against the nearby wall. "See? Don't you just look like peaches and cream!"

Norma gasped, staring, transfixed, at her own reflection. She'd seen moments like these before in movies, read about them in all her books, about the girl who gets the Cinderella moment. She'd never really thought that she would experience it herself, just because it was _so_ cliche and she could just never see herself buying into something like that. But she had to admit, despite the cheesiness of the situation, she was enjoying getting to see herself in a different light. Maybe, if she was lucky, this is what Oncie saw in her every day. She'd always wondered why he called her beautiful, even when she was wearing nothing but ratty, nasty sweatpants and her hair was frizzy. She hadn't changed a bit - she was still that same mousy-lookin girl as always - but something was different at the same time.

Grinning elatedly, she brought her hands to her mouth, blushing darkly as she stammered, "I-I look . . . I-I've never . . . I mean, I've never seen myself dressing like this before. It's a little bit of a culture shock, almost. D'you know what I mean?" she turned to her grandmother with a much more genuine laugh now, her heart fluttering giddily.

Harriet nodded sagely, scratching her temple with a bright pink painted nail. "Oh, yes, of course I understand that," she conceded, her voice gentle and reassuring. "I was like that, too, when I was your age. But do you know what? I think you feel more confident in a nice dress. Don't you agree, Normie?"

And it hit Norma suddenly that _yes_, she did agree! That was exactly what was different about her reflection in the mirror - she understood now! It wasn't that she was really any more glamorous than before, or that she had suddenly gone about a huge transformation. It was all a matter of perception, she realized. She was seeing herself as prettier because in a wedding dress like this one, how could one _not _be pretty? If possible, the grin on her face grew even wider than before, and she nodded her head quickly in agreement.

"I . . . I think you're right, Grammy," she breathed, giggling as she did a full spin in front of the mirror, her skirt swishing around her body. "What d'you think Oncie will say to _this_? I think he'll have a full-fledged heart attack!" she exclaimed teasingly.

Grammy patted her affectionately on the shoulder, chuckling and wrinkling her nose playfully. "Well, let's not get too carried away just yet, doll," she said. "First things first, we've gotta get your makeup done - and _then_ we can get you to that church so you can give your man that heart attack!" She laughed, a gravelly, familiar sound, and pinched Norma's cheek in that teasing elderly-person sort of way.

Out of the corner of Norma's eye, she could see the clock was still ticking.

* * *

Somehow, the Once-Ler had managed to make it out of his bachelor party alive.

When he had heard that Chet, Brett, and a few of his friends from the business scene were throwing him his bachelor party, he hadn't really known _what _to expect. His brothers were notorious party animals, and he had seen firsthand how raucous those businessmen could be in the right environment. Combine that with how easily Oncie got drunk, and it was sure to be a chaotic night. He had been certain that by the end of the night, something awful would happen, and hadn't been able to shake his apprehensiveness the entire time.

But it had actually ended up being a pretty tame party - by his brother's standards. The Once-Ler had insisted upon not having any strippers, and that was just about where they drew the line. They had listened to him on that much, but everything else was wilder than what he was used to. And of course, he was the only guy there who got tipsy from _one _drink. One. Everyone was inebriated by the end of the night, but of _course _hejust _had _to be the one to get there first. Embarrassing.

If he were being completely honest with himself, though, he really had had a pretty good time. After all, with all this work going on lately, he very rarely allowed himself the luxury of going out and spending some time with his male friends. It was nice to take his energy off his relationship with Norma for a little while, just to enjoy one last night out with the guys. (Never mind that some of the businessmen that had been invited weren't even friends with Oncie to begin with - he had a feeling that his family had bribed them to come along, actually.) To be honest, he was just surprised and relieved that he had gotten through the night's events, and woken up this morning without a bloodstain on his shirt and a missing tooth, or an elaborately tacky face tattoo.

Nope. None of that. Just a _really _bad headache.

When he had woken up this morning, his face buried in the pillow, he'd felt so horrible that he had actually resorted to making himself a cup of coffee. Normally, he hated the stuff - he had an insufferable sweet tooth, and it was always too bitter for him, even the weaker brews - but today it had been a lifesaver. Having something smooth and hot on his stomach had helped quell the nausea a little bit, and it certainly had succeeded in waking him up. He had the jitters now, but it was well worth not feeling like a zombie. He actually looked presentable now. Which was surprising, because this morning, he'd crawled out of bed looking like he ought to be lying in a casket.

He stared at himself in the mirror, adjusting his bow tie and pulling a face at his reflection. Quirking an eyebrow in a mock quizzical expression, he gripped his lapels and turned to the side, studying the fabric in order to keep his mind busy. He had never been really interested in clothes before - except for the thneed, which really _wasn't _a piece of clothing and yet it was at the same time because it could be anything - but now, he forced himself to take interest. If he didn't keep his mind off his own nervousness, then he'd be so far gone that he'd never be able to get a grip. Besides, it _was_ something to admire, at least. He had to admit, he looked sharp.

His signature green color was gone for today, replaced by another color that was familiar to him: light gray. He hadn't worn that color ever since his first days selling the thneed, when he'd pranced around in those stripey pants and that old, tattered gray vest. He'd gotten so used to wearing such garish emerald colors like the ones on his favorite business suit that he'd almost forgotten what softer, more subtle colors even _looked _like, particularly on him. The suit was neatly-pressed, and though the rental jacket was a size too small and the pants were a little tight (it was always difficult to find clothes that would fit Oncie perfectly), it still looked fine. His bow tie was light blue, in correlation with the wedding colors that they had picked out: gray and blue.

No matter how hard he tried, however, he just couldn't take his mind off the wedding. Not so much the ceremony - he had never really been scared of being in front of people before, so it wasn't a stage fright sort of fear at all. It was more the actual idea of becoming a married man that made his stomach twist up so tightly inside of him. He wasn't really _fearful _of it - in fact, he was looking forward to being married to Norma more than anything. It was just . . . well, _intimidating_. He wanted so bad to be married to her, but would he ever be able to live up to the standards that he had set for himself? Norma deserved the very best; would he be able to give all that to her?

He paused a moment, then gave the mirror a firm nod. His reflection mimicked the action.

Why, of _course_ he could be a good husband to Norma! What kind of a question was that? Why was he suddenly second-guessing himself now, when he'd had a whole year to figure it all out for himself? He sighed, a little irritated with this line of thinking. Cold feet. Just another wedding cliche that he had wanted to avoid. There was no way that he could back out, anyway; he loved Norma more than anything. So there was no need to question himself. As long as they had each other, then everything would be just fine. He was sure of it.

After all, he had to keep in mind that even though his parents' marriage had failed, things could be different for him and Norma. They weren't Susie and Danny. They wouldn't make those same mistakes. He would do anything that it took to keep from becoming the slimeball that his father had been. He'd never dare to so much as lay a finger on Norma; the very thought of it made him sick to his stomach. But it wasn't just the physical abuse that had gone wrong with his mother and father - the constant emotional struggles between the two of them had really done their marriage in. That was more the area of the Once-Ler's concern, considering how frequently he and Norma argued with one another. Still . . . that didn't mean that they couldn't sort things out. No matter how bad their fighting would ever get, Oncie would still love her. He'd never want to give up on their relationship entirely. And he could only hope she felt the same way.

Speaking of Norma, he wondered what she was up to right now. It had been a while since they had last spoken, since the rest of their wedding preparations needed to be done separately, within their own families. For the time being, she was staying with her family in a hotel close to the church. He suspected that she was just as busy with prepping as he was, if not even more. After all, it took him five minutes, maybe less, to get dressed and comb through his hair. She had a whole different, decidedly more elaborate, ensemble to slip into. Not to mention taking care of everything else that had fallen her way this week, the poor girl.

He had actually tried calling her, earlier this morning, but he thought that he had probably reached her at a particularly busy time. When the phone had rung, she had picked up on the third ring, sounding a little breathless as she had greeted, "Hello? Once-Ler, is that you, darling?" He had replied that yes, it was him, and that he'd been thinking about her all morning. He had wanted to check in on her. To which she had replied with a little laugh, "I thought we weren't supposed to speak before the wedding."

"That's seeing you in your wedding dress," he had corrected, though not without a broad grin and a laugh, himself. "But I gotta admit, I can't wait for _that_, either. Naaaaah, for now, I just wanted to talk to you for a little bit. Are you okay? No chilly feet?"

She had replied briskly, "No, of course not, sweetheart! B-but is it alright if we talk a little later? Not that I don't want to see you, it's not that at all. Trust me, I would much rather talk to you right now than what I'm doing - " she had paused, and there had been a flushing sound, followed by a sigh from Norma. "Mom and Jean are both . . . you know. _Yacking_. I'm having to take care of them for just a little while, but . . . just know that I love you soooo, so much anyway."

He hadn't heard from her since, so now he was especially excited to get down to the church and start the ceremony already. His family was already down there, setting up the decorations and helping the caterers get everything organized. They hadn't originally wanted to, since it was Norma who had hired the catering crew anyway, but the Once-Ler had insisted that they help out, especially after his phone call with her earlier. Norma had so much on her mind, it wasn't fair to expect her side of the family to handle _everything_. Besides, Susie Once-ler _loved_ decorating for parties, particularly when she was put in charge and given the opportunity to tell other people what to do. She, at least, would be at peace with the assignment - though Oncie had to admit, he felt sorry for his aunt, uncle, and brothers for having to _be_ bossed around by her for hours on end today.

The front door to his little cottage creaked open, bringing him back to the present. He blinked in surprise, wondering who could possibly want to speak with him right _now_, on today of all days. After all, it had been so widely publicized by the media, there wasn't a person around who didn't know that today happened to be his wedding day. He would have thought that people would have the courtesy to give him some privacy, at least. Sighing, he adjusted his bow tie one more time, preparing to fight off the paparazzi.

Just as he drew a breath to tell them all to go away, however, another thought occurred to him. Of course, it didn't hve to be the paparazzi at all! No, the more likely answer was that it was actually the Lorax. After all, he hadn't come around to pester Oncie ever since their last argument, over his mother's deception. But would he really have the gall to come preach to him about the trees on his wedding day? That seemed a little . . . extreme, to say the least.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Hey, Mustache, not now, alright? We can always talk about the . . . the tree thing later," he added absently as he bustled around his room, pretending to be busier than he actually was. "But right now, I've got stuff to take care. You know I'm getting married today, ri - " he stopped dead in his tracks as he turned around, facing the direction of the front door, staring eye-to-eye with someone who was both familiar and a stranger at the same time. "Right?" he squeaked, just to finish his sentence, because he had been otherwise completely robbed of any other words.

He knew this man. The Once-Ler would know that face anywhere - especially because it so closely resembled his own. The other person in the room might as well have been Oncie's own doppelganger, just several years older than him. He had the same round face, the same bright blue eyes that shone with ambition and a little bit of pride. His shoulders were set with that familiar determination, as if he always had to prove himself to the rest of the world. He was tall and lanky, too, with shaggy dark hair. The only difference, really, was their attitre - the older man had on a Rolling Stones tee shirt and some casual jeans - the stranger's scraggly black beard, and the crows feet deepening at the corners of the other man's eyes.

"Well, here I thought you'd be happy to see me, at least, Champ. How disappointing," said Danny Once-ler.

His head spun and tingled, and Oncie suddenly felt lightheaded, as if all the air had pressed out of his lungs at once. Either he had just hallucinated for a second, or his father was standing right here in the room with him. His _father_, who had abandoned him - abandoned his whole family - when the Once-Ler was only a boy, now thought it was just perfectly fine to waltz in the room and expect his son to be happy to see him. So shocked that he could feel his hands shaking, it was all that he could do just to stare, eyes narrowed, at Danny, trying to keep himself from collapsing. His pulse rushed and roared in his ears from his own anger and bewilderment. All this, on his wedding day?

"Uh. Son? Are you okay there?" the older man quirked an eyebrow, infuriatingly nonchalant. "You look like you're ready to puke."

_Gee, I can't imagine why_, the Once-Ler thought contemptuously.

"Don't call me that," he finally managed to say, stumbling over his words a little in his surprise. He wasn't entirely sure if he was referring to the casual use of his old nickname, 'Champ' (given to him by his father, of course) or just the use of the word 'son' in general. He supposed it wouldn't matter much either way. His voice was quaky and a little soft, but he swallowed hard and did his best to look self-assured. "J-Just . . . I just . . . uh . . . " he pushed his hands through his bangs, looking away to collect himself. "What are you even _doing _here?" he finally cried, his voice cracking nervously.

Danny drew a slow, slightly overdramatic breath, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking thoroughly bored with this line of questioning. "Heard you were getting married. You know, you _are_ famous now. And . . . " he paused, shrugging his shoulders, "I guess I wanted to stop by. Don't know why. Always knew you'd make it, kid. Chet and Brett always wanted to be football players, but I knew you'd be the one to break into the biz." He scratched the side of his head. "How's the famous life treatin' ya, anyhow?"

For a moment, Oncie almost considered not even answering. Why should he, after all? Who did this man think he was, anyway, just walking right back into his life just because he was getting married? He didn't want anything to do with Danny anymore - and his family didn't, either. Sure, he might have longed for him to come back years ago, so that he could have a family that was really complete, but he had grown up now. He wasn't twelve years old. He understood now that real life didn't work like "The Parent Trap". Besides, he had figured out by now that his family was better off as a whole without his dad in the picture.

No, there had to be another reason he was here. He wanted something from him. Oncie remembered the day that his father had left more clearly than almost anything else - other than the day he met Norma, and the day he sold his first thneed - and Danny had sworn up and down and sideways that he would never come back. No matter how much Susie and the Once-Ler had both begged and pleaded, he had insisted. And he'd left, and never come back. But now that he knew his son was making big money . . . well, it only made sense that he'd show up now. Of course. On the one day when Oncie was at his most vulnerable.

"It's been great," Oncie answered vaguely, careful not to let his own conflicted emotions show through in his tone of voice. He had always been an open book, fairly easy to read, so now he was working harder than ever to just appear calm and collected. "It's . . . just like I thought it'd be," he tacked on with an awkward little laugh, ignoring the little pang in his heart as he forced the words from his throat. "I've got all the money I could ever want. Who wouldn't be happy with all that, right?"

There was a long, awkward pause, and the two men studied each other, Oncie with suspicion, Danny with a weird sort of intrigue, as though he were looking at a huge wad of money instead of a person. The Once-Ler could tell that this was not at all the sort of reception his father had been expecting, and it made him sick to his stomach. Did his dad really think he was that simple-minded, that he would just welcome him back with open arms after . . . after what he did to their family? He didn't get along with Susie either, but even she wasn't as slimy and low as him. She'd really suffered because of him.

"Look, uh . . . actually," said Danny after a while, for a few seconds looking a little defenseless and disturbingly resemblant of his son before slipping back into his usual careless attitude, "I _did _have something I wanted to talk to you about. If you'll listen." He looked conflicted for a moment, and then all but tore the words out of his mouth, grimacing as though he were being forced against his will to speak, "Listen, I know you must still be mad at me - "

"Really?" said the Once-Ler quickly, with a withering look at his father. "You only beat up my mom and ditched the whole family. I tooooootally don't see any problems there." He folded his arms across his chest defensively, feeling more confident with the conversation the more accustomed he became to his father's presence in the room.

Danny gave an irritated sigh, rolling his eyes. "Just listen for a second, son!" The urgency in his voice startled Oncie so much that he didn't even object to his father calling him 'son' when he'd specifically asked him not to. Instead, he blinked and fell silent, waiting for his dad to finish speaking. With the first look of seriousness Once-Ler had seen on the guy's face yet, Danny said, "I've been seeing stuff in the news about this factory of yours - and I want in."

The Once-Ler, bemused, furrowed his eyebrows. Slowly lowering his hands, he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, trying not to appear nervous or shaken. Tilting his head to the side slightly, he asked, "Iiiiii'm sorry, what? Did you just say youuuu . . . wanna work at my factory for me? _You_?"

"Yeah," replied Danny swiftly, nodding his head. "And I know what you're thinking, but it's not like that. I don't care about the money." He paused, flinching. "I-I know what that must sound like after . . . after _leaving _for more money, but look. This is about your factory. Your mom's helping you make all these important business decisions, isn't she? I can tell it's her, so don't lie." When Oncie nodded slowly, still too surprised to really say much of anything, Danny pressed on. "That's why your company is . . . i-is doomed to just be _ruined_! If she keeps pushing this whole biggering thing, then you're bound to go kaput! I mean, think about it, kid. How many trees do you think are even _left_? Sooner or later you'll run out if you keep out like this!"

The Once-Ler had opened his mouth to say something, but now that he was confronted with this information, he promptly shut it, his teeth clicking with the action. He had to admit, he'd never really thought about it before, though it seemed like an obvious question to ask. Why _hadn't _he considered it before? He supposed that he'd just been so overwhelmed with all the other problems plaguing his factory, the actual _amount _of the Truffula trees hadn't yet crossed his mind. It had been the least of his worries - but if even his father had noticed, then he must be doing something wrong.

After momentarily entertaining the thought that his father could be _right_, however, he shook himself. _Snap out of it_, he scolded himself, mentally urging himself not to get too transfixed by the fact that his dad had finally shown up, after all these years. Even though there was a part of him, deep down, that wanted so badly to trust Danny and for them to be friends again, there was a much stronger part of him that knew this man was nothing but trouble, and shouldn't be allowed anywhere near his family. Even if he _did _claim that he had changed. Oncie didn't even want to risk it.

Who did Danny think that he was, anyway? Just walking right into Oncie's house and telling him how to run his company. It seemed like _everybody _just felt like they could boss him around and say whatever they wanted to him about his work, without the slightest regard for his opinion. Well, he had just about had it with that. _He_ had created the thneed, through hard work and years of perserverance. It belonged to him, just like his factory. He was the CEO, so it was his job to make important business decisions. Not his mother's or father's, not the Lorax's, not even Norma's. And it was more than just plain tiresome to hear the same tune over and over again. "Your factory" this, "you should change" that. It was all starting to jumble up in his mind until it felt almost as if everyone was fighting for a chance to have his position.

"W-well, y'know what? Thaaaat's my problem, then. Not yours. I can take care of everything just fine. And besides, what do you even know about it?" There was a defensive edge creeping into his voice now; he despised slights against his company anyway, but coming from his father they made him twice as angry. "Where've you even _been_ for the past I-don't-know-how-many years? And you think you can just . . . boss me around like this? I'm gonna keep biggering my factory, and nothing's gonna stop me - and if you've got a problem with that, maybe you should take it up with my legal team."

Okay, he was bluffing big time there. There was no way he could sue for something as petty as a personal insult, but still. Whatever made him sound more intimidating worked for him. And for a moment, it appeared to have worked, genuine emotion flickering across his father's face for just a few seconds. Then, it was gone as quickly as it had come on, replaced by that same infuriatingly, devestatingly cool attitude.

"Alright, already. Don't give yourself a nervous breakdown, bud." He paused, then regarded Oncie with a thoughtful smirk. "You were always like that as a kid, though. You didn't get worked up very often, but when you did . . . man, look out." He chuckled, expecting some sort of response from his son, but when he got nothing, he became more serious and sighed. "Look, if you can't give me an answer right now, that's okay, but just think about it, will you?"

The Once-Ler laughed incredulously, though the sound was without humor. "Oh, I _can_ give you an answer now!" he insisted. "And the answer is 'no'. Even if you were a . . . a-a, I don't know, a magical wizard or something that could cast a spell and give me enough Truffula trees to last a whole lifetime and longer, I still wouldn't want you anywhere near my factory. Or _my_ family. You think I don't know what happened to Mom 'cause of you?"

Danny's face turned stony. Immediately, the Once-Ler knew he had perhaps gone too far, but he didn't care. It was lingering between them like a giant curtain, and needed to be said. "I know you remember that," he said, the first inkling of sincerity ringing in his voice, making Oncie just wish his father could be trusted. "But things are different now. _I'm _different. If it were _you_ that had made a big mistake like that, wouldn't you want me to forgive you?"

And now, his father was the one that had gone too far. The Once-Ler spun on his heel, turning the full force of his furious gaze onto Danny, for the first time raising his voice towards the man. "Well, I'm _not _you!"

His heart thudded heavily in his chest, his blood pounding in his ears, but it felt good. It felt good to finally get it all off his mind, out there in the open. He'd been compared to Danny Once-ler one time too many for his taste, and had had enough of it. Just as it usually went with his temper, though, as soon as he had lost it and started yelling, the blind anger was starting to melt away, though the lingering, long-held feelings of bitterness and confusion towards his father stayed put.

He watched, absolutely silent, as the expression on his father's face changed entirely. He looked genuinely wounded, his face blanching for just a moment before he began to recover himself again. Still, it was good to see that he had at least gotten through to the man, after so long struggling just to be heard by him. After growing up asking himself where his dad was, after having to explain to the kids on the playground that he didn't live with a mother _and _a father, Oncie felt that this was a well-deserved wake-up call for dear old Dad.

"I know," said Danny at least, his voice trembling just a little bit. "I know that." He swallowed hard, sighing and looking down at his feet for a long time before he could finally work up the words, shrugging his shoulders and attempting to appear cool and collected again. It worked, but only halfway this time. "That's why I thought I could trust you to make the right choice."

The Once-Ler scowled, the blush on his face deepening. So now he was being talked down to and preached at by his good-for-nothing father? As if Oncie could just easily brush to the side all the times he'd seen his mother with a new bruise on her face, or the times when Once-Ler himself had almost been victim to his father's brutal nature? Behind the utterly calm exterior, there was a man that Oncie no longer wished to know. Even if he _had_ changed, there were still those memories of a darker time lingering between them, and _those_ could _never_ change.

So, it was with great assurance that Oncie nodded his head, setting his jaw firmly as he adjusted his bow tie and prepared to leave the house. He had a wedding to get too, after all - one that his father wouldn't be invited to anytime soon.

"Believe me," he said as he headed for the door, leading Danny out, as well, "I am."

* * *

A long time ago, when Norma was just a little thing, her mother had told her that when she grew up and got married, her wedding day would go by so quickly that it would feel like only a few seconds, instead of the whole day long. She hadn't really believed it back then; after all, how could one possibly forget any detail, no matter how small, about something as special as their wedding? Now, though, she understood it completely.

The ceremony had been absolutely gorgeous. Norma remembered the church being beautiful both on the interior and the exterior, but they had really outdone themselves when it came to decorating the place. It was nothing too incredibly lavish; Once-Ler had insisted that since everything else in his business career was so over-the-top and flashy, their wedding should be low-key and simple, just for a much-needed change of pace. Who wanted to bring their work into their romantic relationship, after all? But it had been just enough to make Norma feel like a princess, and yet at the same time all she cared about was how much she loved her new husband.

_Husband_. That was so strange to think about - he was her _husband _now! Even though she'd had plenty of time - hours, even - to allow the thought to sink in since putting on their wedding rings at the ceremony, she still found it a little bit unbelievable. It took her breath away just to think of it. She'd known him for three years now, and in that time, she had gained not just a new love, but a best friend and confidante that she'd never found in anyone else before. When she'd first met him, she had never imagined that they would one day stand before their families and friends and vow to spend the rest of their lives together. And now, well . . . here they were.

Oncie had been so nervous when he'd slipped the wedding ring on her finger. Norma had been able to feel his hands trembling as she held them in hers, locking her gaze with his. It had been the first time that she had ever seen him in front of a crowd of people and _not_ caring about what he looked like to them. For those precious seconds, it was just the two of them, and nothing in the whole world had mattered. It had taken all of her willpower not to completely melt when she'd looked into those big blue eyes and seen all the love there, all reserved especially for her. That was one thing that she would always remember, no matter _how _much of a blur in which the rest of the day went by. Those eyes.

She had had more fun at the reception than she'd ever had in her entire life. There had been quite a crowd; even though they hadn't invited very many people to the wedding, it had still seemed like a whole stadium-sized multitude had been piled into that hotel. Perhaps it was just because the catering crew had attended, as well - and they had ended up drinking more than anyone else there, ironically enough.

The crowd had hooted and cheered when the Once-Ler had taken off Norma's garter - with his teeth; they'd cooed and smiled with delight when the newlyweds had shared their first dance together; and they'd shed a few tears when the Once-Ler himself, in the absence of a hired wedding band or singer, had serenaded Norma with a song of his own. (And, despite her insisting that it had been a cheesy, campy move, both of them knew fully well that Norma had enjoyed the sentiment, as well.)

And now . . . here they were. Together. Alone. In a hotel room. The mystery honeymoon location had turned out to be, just as her Grammy Harriet had predicted, an exclusive, luxurious hot springs resort, far away from Greenville and Thneed Inc. and all of that work nonsense that they always tried so hard to avoid. No more business meetings, at least now for a few weeks. Now that they were so close together, there was no way nervousness about what was to come could be avoided. She'd done a good job of not thinking about it for the rest of the day, but now all her insecurities came flooding back to her full-force.

She glanced over to her left; they were both seated on the queen bed in the spacious master bedroom of their hotel room, and they hadn't moved for a good five minutes now. They were just sitting there in the silence, both of them feeling awkward and a little fluttery in the stomach. When she looked at the Once-Ler, she smiled a little, allowing every detail to sink in; this would be another moment to remember for good. His ruffled hair, lying in disheveled little waves over his round face; his pink cheeks and nose, both from the wind and the fact that he was a little on the tipsy side - but not much. He was still dressed in his wedding tux, but his bow tie was undone; Norma had changed out of her wedding gown into a much more comfortable navy blue casual dress, her shoes already kicked off and strewn on the floor at the foot of the bed.

Outside her room's window, she could hear the tossing of the ocean. It almost helped her calm down, in a way, as she looked to the Once-Ler, gave him a tiny smile, and reached for his hand. "Hey," she said at last, breaking the lengthy silence. "You've still got a little wedding cake in your hair." She bit her lower lip, giggling lightly.

She reached over to pick the brightly-colored crumbs out of his bangs, and he laughed, swatting her hand playfully. "Hey, well maybe you shouldn't have been so clumsy with your cake-to-mouth placement, then," he answered, grinning more broadly and more genuinely than she had ever seen. He shifted his position slightly, brushing his fingers along her cheekbones as he leaned in to kiss her lips. "I love you," he breathed, tenderness behind the teasing tone to his voice.

"I love _you_," she answered a little breathlessly, gripping his lapels and drawing him in for a deeper kiss, giving him her lower lip. She shut her eyes tightly, and when they pulled apart, she pressed her forehead to his, smiling shyly. "So. Is this what being Mr. and Mrs. feels like?" She stroked the back of his neck slowly, her fingers playing with the feather-light hairs at his nape. She knew he had a bit of a predilection for hair. "I think I'm loving it so far."

"Me too." His voice was just as sincere as his eyes as he lifted up her hand, pressing a gentle kiss against her wedding ring. She could feel it there on her finger, burning and thriving with a life of its own. "You're my whole world. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

He brought her in for another kiss, this one longer and a little more insistent than the others. They clung tightly to one another, moving in a gentle rhythm, their clothes and the sheets rustling with their every move. A rough groan rose from the back of the Once-Ler's throat, low and distinctly male, making Norma blush. Her own breathing was turning a little shallow, as well, so that when she spoke, her voice was shaky.

"I-I want you to know that I'm always going to be happy with you, Once-Ler," she told him, as slowly and clearly as she could manage. "You're my husband - we're married now. No matter what happens or who either of us becomes, I'll always care for you as much as I do this very second." She scratched slowly in between his shoulder blades, offering him a little grin as she added, "But if you must know, I felt that way even _before _we were married."

Without any more words between them, they were kissing again, harder and more desperately than they ever had. They moved so that Norma was beneath him, her arms around his neck in an expression of both affection and protectiveness. Each movement was so frenzied and shaky that Norma didn't even have the time to think about how nervous she was for more than a second or two before losing herself in the moment again. They were whispering each other's names, and so caught up in every sensation that there was no more conversation between them for a while, their hands moving almost everywhere at once.

Oncie broke the streak, lifting his mouth from Norma's and regarding her with a shaky little smile. "U-uh . . . I . . . I've never done this before," he confessed sheepishly, his cheeks flaming, hands trembling. He gave an awkward little laugh, trying to cover for his embarrassment.

"M-me neither," she breathed in response, laughing a little in return, though she was certainly too nervous to see anything funny about it at the moment. "But hey," she added quickly, wanting to comfort him, "we'll figure something out. It's okay. R-remember when I told you one time that you didn't ever need to be . . . y'know, nervous or embarrassed around me? Well, that applies now, too. I love you so much. I love you. We're okay here, you and me."

He nodded slowly, the blush on his face deepening. Still, he seemed comforted by this, at least a little - and thankfully, Norma was put a little bit at ease by her own reassurances, as well. Everything was going to be okay. Right.

His lips met hers again, and the two of them sank into the night.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four: Promises, Promises

The next morning, the Once-Ler woke up in a tangled mess of bedsheets. He groaned sleepily, lifting his head from the pillow, and shifted carefully, trying his best not to wake Norma up. Blinking blearily, he yawned and scratched the side of his face, clearing the cobwebs out of his still-hazy mind. Oncie sat up and stretched, long enough to hear his spine crackling accordingly, and the bedsheets fell away from his chest, pooling at his hips. Feeling the chill, he gave a start, blushing heavily as he looked down at himself and realized that he was completely naked.

_Ohhhh_, he thought, flustered as all the memories of last night came rushing back to him. _Riiiiight. That._

He glanced around the room, gradually waking up a bit more, trying to get his bearings. In their haste last night, they had tossed their clothes to the side, and now they were strewn on the floor, far out of reach. Great. So he would have to get up and bolt halfway across the room completely stripped down, just to get hold of his underwear. The room was already chilly enough, and he hadn't even gotten out of bed yet! How much more painful would it be when he had to drag himself, fully unclothed, out of the comfort of the warm sheets just to get some clothes on? He sighed, and smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand, grimacing. That was some quick thinking on his part.

Last night had been more . . . well, more _awkward _than anything else. He certainly hadn't expected it to feel like _that_. He had figured that it would be at least a little strange at first, since they were just getting their bearings and getting used to each other, but his clumsiness had reached all-new levels with her last night, anyhow. On more than one occassion, their front teeth had accidentally clicked together when he had pulled her in for a deeper kiss; Norma had accidentally bitten his lip hard enough once to draw blood; it had been a bit of a free-for-all.

(The two of them had fallen asleep shortly after, but not without getting a few words in on the subject, at least.

"Well, that was . . . interesting," Norma had said, her breathing a little shaky, hair tousled. There had been a long, awkward pause, and then she had looked at the Once-Ler and immediately turned apologetic. "I-I'm sorry," she had said, looking flustered, "it was me, wasn't it? I didn't mean for it to be so - "

At the same time that she had been talking, the Once-Ler had spoken up, as well, stammering through his words, "N-No, hey, it was me too - I'm no good at that sort of thing. But it's not a big deal, I mean it's not like we don't _love _each other anyway- "

They had stopped talking at the same time, staring at each other and falling completely quiet. Their eyes had both widened with a humorous sort of realization, and then, after another beat of silence, they had collapsed into giddy, nervous laughter. Laughter had always been their way of dealing with awkward situations. Once-Ler had drawn her into a tight, affectionate embrace, and the two of them had kissed, much slower and gentler that time around. And he had drawn back, and pressed his forehead to hers.

"You know what I think?" he had said, giving her a mischievous, boyish grin. He had waggled his eyebrows and added, "I think next time'll be better.")

Norma stirred beside him in bed, bringing him out of his reminiscing and back into the present. He blinked, scratched the side of his head sleepily, and turned to look at her admiringly. As her eyes slowly opened, he greeted her with a tired smile, knowing that she always took longer to wake up in the mornings than he. She made a soft noise of contentment and burrowed further into the sheets, not wanting to leave the warmth, closing her eyes again. But he knew from how tightly they were shut, and the slight fluttering of her eyelashes, that she hadn't gone entirely back to sleep just yet.

Grinning devilishly, the Once-Ler ducked back down into the sheets, as well, snuggling closer to his wife. Playfully, he stuck his foot in between hers, grabbing her hands gently and placing a kiss to the shiny wedding ring on her finger. He watched as a slow, sleepy smile pulled onto her features, and he laughed softly, glad to have earned some sort of response from her. She had never really been a morning person - by any definition of the phrase.

"Five more minutes," she mumbled, swatting him away playfully. She yawned, then relaxed on the bed, actually seeming like she really was drifting back off to sleep for a few seconds.

"Weeeeeeell, well," Oncie replied, his tone of voice light and humorous, "aren't we cheerful this morning!" He leaned over and kissed her cheek affectionately, then plopped right back down on the bed beside her, sighing languidly and stretching out comfortably against the mattress.

"Mmmmm-hmmm, and I'm sure _you _look like sunshine and roses, too," she replied with her usual biting wit, though there was something in her voice that let him know she was only playing. Her brusque attitude in the morning was second-nature to him now, so he wasn't offended in the slightest.

Without missing a beat, he poked her gently on the nose and replied, "Oh, I do, actually. But you'll have to open your eyes if you wanna get a look. Thaaaat's just how it works."

Taking her cue from him, she opened her eyes, grinning from ear-to-ear as her gaze met his. Her eyes were still a little cloudy from sleep, but for the most part, she seemed to be slowly getting back to her usual self. She took her hands out of his and moved her feet away, but snuggled in closely to him and rested her head in the curve of his shoulder. She sighed contentedly, her fingers running along his chest in slow circles, ghosting over the fine black hair there. The two of them sat that way, completely quiet, for a long while, until Norma cleared her throat softly and decided to speak up.

"Your feet are freezing," she told him, giving him a teasing little smile. "What do you do, sleep with them soaking in buckets of ice at night?" She gave him a playful little kick to punctuate her sentence, the bottom of her left foot landing against his skinny shin. "I didn't know I married Frosty the Snowman."

He yelped, and flinched back a little with surprise, breaking into laughter as he scooted back closer to her after a few seconds. "Are you kidding? Speak for yourself, Norma! Yours are cold, too." He shivered a little, then nuzzled against her neck, murmuring, "Guess the hotel room's just kinda cold. Oh, well. We can just stay right here, like this, all day. And everything'll be fine."

Hugging him even more tightly, she replied with a giggle, "That sounds perfect to me." Tentatively, she shoved her foot in between his this time, grinning wickedly. She leaned in and kissed him first on the cheek, then softly on the lips. "But we may want to put some clothes on first. Hm?" She stroked the bridge of his nose, and he watched the sightly self-conscious blush spread across her cheeks.

"Oh . . . " he breathed, his eyes widening a little. "Um, r-right. Right." He cleared his throat, giving an awkward little laugh and trying to appear completely at ease with his current state of . . . vulnerability. He leaned in, stalling a little, and kissed her on the forehead, then her eyelids. "Day One as an official married couple. You're my _wife_ now, Norma," he breathed incredulously, clasping her hands and pressing his lips softly to her knuckles.

"And you're my husband," she answered, squeezing his hands, a brightness entering her eyes as she stared at him with a tenderness and adoration that she had never really used for him before. "And I love you. Even if you feel like you have ice packs for feet." She giggled and kicked him playfully in the shin once again, shifting back slightly in the covers as he leaned and tickled her stomach in response.

Without another word between the two of them, their laughter melted into a slow kiss, their limbs winding and twining their way around each other, skin sliding against skin. The Once-Ler held onto Norma very gingerly, as if she were the most precious thing that he had and he was scared of breaking her. He broke away from the kiss, nuzzling against her neck, and she rested her hand over his heart, feeling the light, rabbit-like stutter of his pulse against her palm. He kissed along her neck and jawline, then brought her in for a tight embrace, sighing with the purest happiness she had ever seen from him.

"Okay, okay, I'm getting up and getting dressed now, I promise," he mumbled, grinning. It was clear from his tone of voice that he really didn't _want_ to get out of bed right now, but he figured that now was just as good a time as any to get a start on the day.

"Whatever you say, Oncie," she said teasingly in response, winking and giving him a coy little smile.

He darted in for one more quick kiss on the lips, then drew back, scrambling in his usual awkward way out of bed. He blushed heavily, reminded once again of his bareness, and hurried to gather his underpants, stumbling the whole way. He heard Norma laugh a little, then the bedsheets rustled and she slid out of bed, as well, though he made a point of not looking at her. He could feel his ears turning dark red. When he got himself covered, finally slipping on his underwear, he stretched lithely and yawned again, scratching the back of his neck.

"How d'you feel, by the way?" he asked her, blushing a little and offering her a tiny grin. He wasn't entirely sure if that was the question he was supposed to ask, or if he ought to word it differently, but the words had fallen from his mouth before he could dwell too much on it. "I-I mean, I just wasn't sure if, y'know . . . you'd be, like . . . sore or anything. You okay?" He shrugged his shoulders, trying to appear nonchalant, but his awkwardness was painfully obvious.

"Oh!" she gasped, blinking with surprise. Now it was her turn to blush as he alluded to what had happened between them last night. Clearing her throat, she shrugged in return, trying to appear casual as she rubbed the back of her neck and slid into her gray pajama top and cotton shorts. "Oh, yeah, don't worry about that, Oncie. I-I'm fine. A little bit sore, but I'll be alright." She shook out her tangled, curly hair and walked over to him, lacing her arms around his neck. "Don't worry so much. Everything's alright."

After a moment's pause, a delighted little smile touched his features, his eyes brightening up immediately. He nudged her playfully, then gave a quiet little sigh and replied with a surprising gentleness in his voice, "'Kay. If you say so." He laughed a little, pressing his forehead to hers and waggling his eyebrows in his typical goofy manner. "One of these days I'll learn to stop worrying over you all the time, I promise," he chuckled.

Willing to play along, she replied humorously, "Well, I suppose _that'll _be the day that I learn to stop pestering you about your work." She patted his chest lightly, then leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. "That being said, how about we _both _stop all our worrying for now, and . . . have some breakfast? Well, I mean, after you put on some more clothes, of course. Can't strut around in your boxers all day, Oncie," she laughed good-naturedly, poking him just above the belly button (Norma knew he was extremely ticklish there).

He doubled over, yelping with surprise, clutching his middle, just as she had expected he would. Swatting her away lightly, he nodded, his cheeks already red. "O-Okay, okay," he gave in, clearing his throat before straightening his posture. "You win. Breakfast it is."

"Pancakes?" asked Norma hopefully, the smile on her face broadening as she vaulted herself playfully on tiptoe. "Did you bring along any marshmallows? We could eat some of those, too."

Oncie laughed, rummaging through his luggage for a clean shirt and pants. He dug out his old familiar grayvest, striped pants, and white shirt, tossing them on the bed. Next, he unzipped another compartment in the luggage bag, pulling out a half-squashed plastic bag of his favorite brand of marshmallows. Holding them in the air, he grinned at Norma, and she laughed incredulously. The man _loved_ his gelatin sugar treats, that was for sure.

"You know I did," he answered, tossing her the bag. She caught it, fumbling a little, as he added, "Sooooooo, anything you have in mind to do today?" He raised his eyebrows quizzically, slipping into his clothes, his hair tousling slightly as he all but yanked the shirt over his head. "I was thinking, to start off our honeymoon, we could go to the Elvis impersonation show at the theatre. It's not too far from here, actually. Short drive, medium walk. Isn't the King worth it?" He gave her a highly amused, teasing grin, knowing full well that she hated Elvis Presley impersonation shows - she found them completely tacky.

She snorted, striding over to him and playfully tugging his fedora down low onto his forehead. "You," she huffed, giving him a falsely reproachful look before the expression melted into a smile and she kissed him on the lips. "You're ridiculous. You are not about to drag me to an Elvis wannabee sing-a-long show." She snickered, her nose wrinkling, and she adjusted his fedora so that she could see his eyes, giving him a quick wink. "If you don't need my help cooking anything, I'm gonna go shower. Okay?"

"Alright," he answered, cracking his knuckles and waggling his fingers as he gathered the things from his bag that he would need to make breakfast. (Norma had thought it completely foolish of him to drag along his cooking materials with him, but he had insisted that anything he could cook up would be better than room service, anyway. He'd only carried nonperishables along with him, and had bought things like milk and eggs at the grocery store yesterday, when they had arrived at the hotel.) "Buuuuuut I think it's only fair to warn you that if you don't hurry up, I might end up eating all of the food before you get back."

Now wielding a glossy spatula, he grinned and prodded Norma gently in the ribs with it. She laughed, swatting him away, and nodded her head quickly, giving him a mock salute.

"Duly noted, sir," she replied, smirking with amusement. She grinned, looking absolutely ecstatic, and sighed a little, scurrying back to him one last time. Clutching his face gently but excitedly in her hands, she pressed her forehead to his, standing on tiptoes, and whispered, as though sharing a secret, "I love you very, very much."

"Oh, I-I love you, too!" he called back after her, laughing giddily and even giving her a little wave as she headed to the bathroom. He stared after her for a few seconds, his cheeks glowing, partially from surprise by her sudden affection, and then gave a blissful little sigh. Well. Time to get to work on those pancakes, it seemed.

As he set to work cooking breakfast, he couldn't help but think about all the things, over the course of just about three years, that had changed. It was almost dizzying to imagine, the sheer amount of success that had risen up in the Once-Ler's professional life, and all the love that had appeared in his personal life, as well. Everybody around him had always said that he would never be able to make it anywhere, that he was every bit as useless as his mother and father and wouldn't be worth more than just a small town. But here he was, proving all of them wrong. He was _not _useless. That little boy with the broken guitar was long gone.

When he had first left home, he hadn't imagined that he would ever in a million years be getting married, especially to somebody as wonderful as Norma. All his life, he'd just coasted through thinking that he didn't deserve the company of someone that special. And yet, somehow, for whatever reason, she had seen something in him and decided to give him a chance. Even when nobody else did. And he could never forget that. He could only hope to be a good husband to her in return, though he knew he couldn't possibly live up to that - especially since at the time, he was currently lying to both her _and_ the entire general public about his company's tree-chopping and biggering.

_You can't exactly help it_, he reminded himself, busying his hands with the pancakes and furrowing his eyebrows with concentration. _Business is a fierce place to be, you know that. It's survival of the fittest - not your problem that some people don't understand that._

He blinked, a little surprised by the flippancy with which he was able to just completely disregard everything that Norma had ever said to him about his factory. It was getting easier and easier for him to do that lately, brush his problems off his shoulder and just ignore the naysayers. That's what they were in his mind, after all - they weren't helping him with all their protests, they were just against him. Just like everyone always _had_ been. He supposed he was always just so defensive about his company because, well, it was - apart from marrying Norma - the one thing in his life he'd managed to get right. His one good accomplishment. And to hear more people saying that they didn't like it and didn't want to support his company because of the environmental issues . . . it just sent him reeling.

So, lately, he had taken to just ignoring all the negative words and was taking his success in stride, enjoying every minute of it. After all, he'd never been the type to let those sort of things rain on his parade, right? Why shouldn't he enjoy all the money that he had worked hard to earn? Why was it such a moral crime for his factory to keep biggering, when other businesses around the world chopped down _twice _as many trees as him? He wasn't the only CEO that allowed this stuff to happen, after all - so why should he guilt himself and put himself on trial for it, right? He didn't need to bear the burden all by himself. No, all those protestors could go nag some other company for a while, and just leave him in peace.

Of course! Why hadn't he started thinking like that _sooner_? All this time of living in guilt and fear that he was doing the wrong thing, inhibiting himself from really enjoying the perks that being rich and famous had brought to him, it was really unnecessary. It was so liberating just to realize that he didn't have to feel bad about a factory that was actually doing good things for the world! How bad could it possibly be, right? He breathed a sigh of relief, overjoyed when he felt his stomach un-knot itself, the physical and emotional weight of the guilt that he had carried with him secretly for so long sliding off his shoulders. Now he was free, finally free to be Mr. Onceler, President, CEO and Founder of Thneed Incorporated. And boy, was he excited to finally get out there and started living.

The Once-Ler absentmindedly prodded one of the cooking pancakes with the spatula, clicking his tongue thoughtfully. He could hear the hot water running in the bathroom nearby, the rushing sound thankfully distracting him from his thoughts about his business. As glad as he was to have finally relaxed himself a little bit about the issues with Thneed Inc., now certainly wasn't the time to have work on the brain. After all, he was a newly-married man! If that wasn't reason enough to just stop worrying and celebrate already, then he didn't know what was! Besides, he felt certain that no matter what Norma believed about his factory, she wouldn't want him to think about it so constantly like that. Even when they had been arguing about it, she had never insisted that he feel like a terrible person. She had done her best to be accepting of him and sympathetic to his needs.

He would take care of work when he got back to Greenville. Right now, he would just enjoy the time off that he had with his new wife, and not think about all the other, significantly less-important things like the trees and his factory.

Grinning with satisfaction as he noticed that the pancakes were coming along, he clutched onto the handle of the frying pan, wielding the cooking utensils expertly as he gave them each individual flips. There was a sizzle as the pancakes' underbellies hit the pan, almost completely golden-brown on both sides. With a jolt, he realized that it had actually been a while since he'd fixed himself a good stack of flapjacks. He'd hired a personal chef a few months ago, in order to solve the problem of never having enough to eat at work, and at first it had been utter bliss. But after a while, he'd found himself missing how good food tasted when you cooked it yourself. And these pancakes, despite having been the first he'd made in months, looked _very_ good, for the most part. They a little floppy and not perfectly circular, but he chalked that up to being a little rusty.

"Mmm, smells good," came Norma's voice from the far end of the room as she padded, barefoot, into the kitchen. "You didn't eat any already, did you?" She laughed and pranced closer to him, carrying the smell of her shampoo with her.

Her hair was damp and frizzy, and she wore her favorite pair of worn old pajamas. He turned around to face her, a little surprised, and slid a pancake onto the plate on the countertop. He hadn't even noticed the water cut off; he supposed he really had gotten deep in thought, after all, despite his best efforts. Flipping the rest of the pancakes onto the plate, he sighed and gave her a humorous grin, promptly kissing her forehead.

"Naaahh, you're in luck," he responded. "I finished 'em just now, actually. Um, sorry in advance that they kinda look a little . . . ameboa-ish. I haven't fixed any in a long time," he said on a nervous laugh, retrieving another plate. "Here you go," he continued, handing the plate to Norma. "Just take as many as you want."

Spinning the plate once in her hand, she bit her lip, then speared two flapjacks with her fork. Sliding them onto the plate, she giggled a little and winked at him playfully. "That's okay. Ameboa pancakes are perfectly fine with me." She examined the breakfast sitting on her plate conteplatively, then shrugged. "They looked pretty good to me, actually!" She grabbed the bottle of male syrup on the counter and went to sit at the breakfast table. "I think you've just been spoiled a little bit by Henri," she added pointedly, referring to his personal chef.

"Yeaaaah, sure. At least work's spoiling me in that department," he humored her, though he couldn't help a little grin twitching upwards at the corners of his mouth, anyway. He gathered about four or five pancakes onto his own plate; he doubted he would actually eat that many, but he always made more than any human being could eat in one sitting anyway. Heading for the table and sitting down across from her, he added, trying to keep his voice light and casual, "Heeeey, speaking of work, I kinda have something kinda-sorta really totally weird to tell you."

Norma raised an eyebrow slowly, and he could tell that his wording had put her instantly-on edge. He supposed that her automatic assumption that any work news would be _bad_ news really didn't reflect very well on his behavior lately, but he didn't have time to think about it for very long. "Oh?" she said at last, sounding carefully polite and intrigued. "What's that?"

Sensing her wariness about any factory news, he put his hands up at level with his chest defensively, his eyes widening. "Oh, hey, no, it's not like that. Not bad news, really, just kinda . . . some random little thing . . . that, uh, happened. Yesterday. I dunno. Anyways, don't worry, it's nothing about my actual factory, _per se_." He sighed, trying to choose the best way to explain what had gone on. Tapping his face with his finger, deep in thought, he finally decided upon, "Sooooo, you'll never guess who came to my house and talked to me for about thirty minutes yesterday." He paused, but not long enough for her to give him an answer, and added, "My _dad_. D'you believe that?"

Norma's eyes enlarged, and she swallowed her food with a struggle, looking so shocked for a moment that Oncie was a little worried she would choke. When she had recovered herself, she stammered, "What? A-actually, no, I don't believe that! Are you kidding me?"

He shook his head, holding up his right hand in imitation of a Boy Scout's Honor. "Nope, no joke! I swear!" He let out an incredulous little laugh, still hardly able to believe his conversation with his father, himself. "I don't even really know how he found me, to be honest - it was kinda out-of-the-blue, y'know. I guess having a pretty bank account will do that sort of thing," he added, a little bitterly.

"Well, what did he say, Oncie?" Norma asked, her voice rising in pitch with curiosity. Her eyebrows were arching up so far that they looked as though they could slide right off her forehead. "Why didn't you tell me about that yesterday? No wonder you seemed so on edge! I knew you had something on your mind, but I thought maybe you were just nervous." She put her hand to her face for a moment, sighed in disbelief, then looked back at him, her expression turning a little more sympathetic. "What must that have been like? Was your dad anything like you remembered? I-I mean, I don't even know what to ask! What happened?"

The Once-Ler sighed, pushing his slim fingers through his bangs, as he always did when he was nervous. He reclined on the back two legs of the wooden chair, tapping his fingers restlessly, and tried to choose the best way to explain the current conversation. How did one go about making sense of his father bursting into his home and demanding to be let back into Once-Ler's life, despite all the wrongdoings of his past? Even Oncie himself couldn't quite make sense of why it had all happened so randomly. Still, he shrugged his shoulders, biting his lower lip and collecting his thoughts, deciding that he at least owed Norma the chance to be let in on _this _part of his life.

"To be honest, I didn't really get a completely straight answer out of him," he confessed, stabbing his fluffy pancakes with his silver fork and shoving the bite into his mouth. After swallowing, he continued thoughtfully, "Basically, what I got from it was that he knew how much money I was making off this factory, and he wanted in on it, too. You know how it is. He said over and over again when I was little that he'd never come back - and now that his son has money, of course he's gonna show up again." He tried to sound casual, indifferent, but he couldn't disguise the hurt that was shining through in his voice and his eyes, anyway.

He convieniently decided to leave out the part where Danny Once-ler had told him right to his face that Oncie himself was making the wrong choices about his factory. There was no need for Norma to know about all the biggering and expansions, not yet. Not until he could think of a way to convince her entirely that there was really no harm done. What sense would there be, after all, in making her upset on the first day of their honeymoon? Knowing how long Norma could stay angry when she wanted to, Oncie would answer that question by saying _no sense_. No sense at all.

"Oh," Norma gasped, looking aghast. She frowned and reached for his hand, giving it a gentle, sympathetic squeeze. "Oh, Once-Ler, I am so sorry. You know, even though you've always said it never mattered, I . . . um, I-I could always tell that your dad meant a lot to you. Or, well, at least, what he thought of you." She stroked the outer surface of his hand, tracing along his knuckles lightly. "It's so unfair that your whole family treats you that way, like you're just a pile of cash to them. I want you to know that I think you're more than that. You're worth everything to me."

He gave her a soft, warm smile in response to her words, squeezing her hand, as well. He kissed her fingers gently, his voice quiet and reverant as he answered, "Thanks. You don't have any idea what that means to me." The Once-Ler looked back up at her through his eyelashes and added, "Don't worry about me, though. I'll be alright. It's not like I expected him to actually wanna talk to _me, _y'know. A-and really, after all the stuff my family had to go through 'cause of him, I don't really _wanna _talk to him that much anymore. When I was a kid, I used to think that I'd want him back, and I missed him . . . but I guess when I grew up I just started realizing and seeing him for who he really was. _Is_."

"I know sometimes you worry," Norma began a little tentatively, as though she were unsure how he would take it, "about being like your father. But you don't have to be worried about that. I don't think you could ever be anything like him. Anyone who says otherwise is just wrong. You don't have it in you to be like that. You're supposed to be good - that's who you _are_," she said sincerely, clutching his hand so tightly it almost hurt a little.

Ugh. _Great_. Why was she always so good at putting him on Guilt Trips like that? Even when she didn't even know she was making him feel guilty, here she was working those spells on his psyche at the same time! At her kind words towards him, her gentleness and kindness, he was only reminded that he was currently making the choice to keep a secret from her - from his _wife. _Even if he knew that their marital situation would likely be better if she didn't know about the biggering in his factory, he still couldn't help but feel awful for hiding anything from her, anyway.

It wasn't as though it was a harmful secret, though. There was nothing expressly _wrong _with what he was doing with his factory. He had his rights, after all, and he had done nothing illegal at all. There was no reason why he shouldn't be allowed to keep on making his own business choices, and not worry himself so much over what other people thought he should do. Work would be waiting for him when he got back, anyway.

The tension fell from his body just a little, and he leaned across the table to kiss her soundly on the lips. "You're too good to me," he mumbled, pressing his forehead to hers for just a moment. "Y'know that? What did I ever even do to deserve someone like you?"

She stroked through his bangs, then giggled, lightening the mood a little. "Ummm, well, to tell you the truth, I just married you for the free pancakes," she said jokingly, giving him a playful wink. "I love you sooooo much. Never forget it."

They both laughed, and she picked a marshmallow off her plate, popping it into his mouth. Surprise flickered across his face, but it quickly melted into an expression of pure contentment as he chewed and swallowed. He ruffled her hair affectionately, and moved back to sit in his own seat again, though he still nudged her foot playfully with his under the table.

Even though they'd been with each other for three years, and had just gotten married yesterday, he was suddenly feeling as fluttery and nervous as though they were back on their first date again. Ever since last night, the atmosphere had changed so greatly between them. Everything was the same, the morning coasting by as usual - but everything was different, at the same time. They had shared something together just between the two of them, that they never would with anyone else. They'd been completely vulnerable and yet, at the same time, both of them had managed to work past their initial shyness.

It was a little awkward looking at each other in daylight this morning. Everything seemed just so normal, so _mundane_. Shouldn't everything feel different now? Shouldn't the whole world look like someplace else entirely? That was how all the old sayings about married life and intimacy and the like went. It was just a little bit odd, how something could be completely ordinary and unordinary for them both at the same time.

"I love you, too, Norma," he replied, around a mouthful of pancakes. He paused to chew and swallow, then grinned broadly over at her, hardly able to believe that someone so wonderful really was _his_. "And I always will. Even if you really _were_ only in it for the free food." There was a few beats of silence between them, and he stared at her contemplatively, his eyes narrowed slightly. He turned his head to the side, deep in thought, and finally side, resting his chin on the heel of his hand. "Hey, y'know something?" he said at last, breaking the silence. "I think I always knew I was gonna marry you one day."

Norma blushed, looking down at her lap for a second before looking back up at him, biting her lower lip shyly. "I'm so glad you did," she confessed, her eyes bright. "I don't suppose I ever even imagined someone like me even _deserving _a husband like you. I-I always _liked _you, I think, but I don't think it ever crossed my mind that I'd be settling down anytime soon." She stood up from her seat and the table coming around to sit in his lap instead. She looped her arms around his neck, and kissed him lightly on the mouth. "And now I just don't know what I'd do without you!"

"Hmmm . . . " he pursed his lips, pretending to think for a moment or two. As he tapped his chin with his slender index finger, he spoke. "Start up a postage stamp collection and travel the world? Adopt a bunch of cats, name them all after your family members, and slowly become a hoarder as you start heading into old age?" He snickered as she swatted him atop the head, flinching for just a moment before ducking in for another kiss, this time sliding his fingers into her hair. "Go skiing, maybe?"

Norma laughed, sliding her hands down to rub his shoulders slowly, still seated in his lap. "Oh, no," she answered teasingly, a wicked grin spreading across her features, "I won't be going skiing alone anytime soon. That's something that _you're _gonna do _with_ me." She leaned in and touched her nose to his, stealing a quick kiss before speaking once again. "You signed up for that when you married me, Once-Ler."

"Are you serious?" he sputtered, half-chuckling, but a little bit honestly curious. Even after three years of being in love with her, Oncie still found it hard to tell sometimes when she was being serious and when she was just kidding. With Norma, it always seemed to be a good chance of either. "I have no clue how to _ski_, Norma."

She leaned in and gently kissed along his jawline, then nibbled at his earlobe playfully. "That, my dear husband, is what _lessons _are for. If you're gonna be married to me, you're gonna have to keep up." She pulled back a little, giving him a much softer smile now, though he could still see the humor in her eyes. "Since I'm in love with you, though, I'll go easy on all the extreme sports. Sound good?" She rested her hands on his chest, stroking gently along his breastbone.

Batting his eyelashes playfully, he leaned in and kissed her full on the mouth, stroking his hand along the back of her neck, then slowly down her spine. "Mmm, you should know by now that _anything _sounds good when I'm with you, my darling beautiful love of my life," he told her, purposefully laying on the compliments a little thick, his tone light and joking, but still loving, as well. When he gave her another kiss, though, this one a little slower, his tone turned gentler and a little serious. "I love my wife."

Norma blushed, scratching the back of his scalp and offering him a smile. "My, my, such a smooth talker," she purred, leaning in and arching against him for another kiss. He gasped, his mouth against hers, a little surprised by the suddenness but eager to comply. She nuzzled against his neck, and he smiled a little, reveling in the warmth of her breath against his skin. "You're the best husband anyone could ever ask for, d'you know that? I'm so lucky that I have you with me."

"I've told you a million times, I'm the lucky one," he responded, though his voice was soft and adoring behind the joking words themselves. He brushed back a few locks of her curly, frizzy hair and tucked them behind her ears, staring at her with such an unabashed tenderness that he had never really used with her before. It made her heart flutter every time he talked to her this way, stared at her like that. "I mean, what other guy has a wife who's an adrenaline-junkie, super pretty, smart, kind, funny, _and _is the champion of pretty much every board game there is?" He laughed a little, ruffling her hair. "Even if it _does _take you foreeeeever to decide which move you're gonna make when we play them."

"Well, in my defense," she answered, wrinkling her nose and sticking her tongue out teasingly, "nine times out of ten I'm just faking confusion to throw you off my scent." She gave him a secretive little wink. "My goal is make my opponents _really _bored, and then maybe they'll quit and I'll win by default!"

"Ooh, clever," said Oncie, grinning all over his face. He grabbed her shoulders gently and pulled her in for another kiss, then leaned in to kiss her cheek. After last night, he was more comfortable than ever with being affectionate with her; he still blushed like crazy every time they kissed, but now he felt much more at ease with the idea of showing affection to her. "Well, darlin', just know that even if you trick me when we play board games, or you may one day get me seriously injured trying to teach me how to ski . . . you really, really make me happy, anyways. I'm the happiest guy in the whole world 'cause of you."

She sighed blissfully, relaxing and shifting her position slightly in his lap, almost looking a little bit sleepy again. She wound her arms loosely around his neck and rested her head against the curve of his shoulder, half-against the beginning of his chest. His breathing was slow and even, and he stroked her back with his hand in smooth, gentle motions. She closed her eyes, concentrating on every little feeling for as long as she could before the silence was broken once again.

"I'm happy with you, too," she told him at last, her voice much softer than she had ever used it with him before. She nudged him playfully, her facial expression tender and loving, but still edged with a humor and amusement, as well. "But of course, you already knew that. I should hope that by now you're aware of how completely, vastly important you are to me. And I really hope you never lose sight of that, Once-Ler," she added, taking his face in her hands.

He felt a dark red blush spreading across his features, and wished he had a little bit better control over his emotions. Still, he couldn't help sometimes just how much her words really touched him - there was no denying it. He couldn't hide how much that adoration and respect for him in her voice mattered to him. Nobody else had really ever given to him what she had, and in a matter of only three years. The look on her face made him weak at the knees, his heart skipping a beat as he realized just how important all this was to him. Her gentleness made him want to just melt and give in immediately, no matter how well he knew that he needed to keep the biggering a secret for now. It took all his willpower to keep himself quiet.

Instead, he just decided to lean in and kiss her again, his heart and mind both full and racing as they lost themselves in the moment. It had been so long since they had been together like this, alone for so long without having to let work or their families or whatever else bother them. And now, they had all this time on their honeymoon to rediscover each other, and remind one another what being close like this was supposed to be like. No more problems, not a care in the world, at least for a little while.

Unfortunately, sometimes true happiness, like the one they shared right in that moment, only lasts for a little while.

Sometimes happiness is just another name for the calm before the storm.

* * *

One year as a married couple. One year filled with moments of love and affection, moments where they felt like they were the only two people in the entire world who understood each other. One year of stealing secret smiles at each other whenever their eyes would fall upon their wedding rings. One year of memories that Norma wouldn't ever in a million years want to make with anybody else. One year of complete bliss.

And now his factory had come into the picture again. Time for another milestone - their first _fight_ as a married couple.

One year ago, Norma might not have believed that she would be facing this subject with her husband _again_. She had thought that they had covered the issues of his factory long ago, when he had promised her - he had _promised _her - that the biggering would stop. And she had believed him; though now she saw why that may have been a foolish decision. She had trusted him so wholeheartedly, had really truly thought that he would be able to step away from the tumultuous lifestyle that fame had dumped onto his shoulders.

She'd never dreamed that he would really allow himself to so easily succumb to avarice like this.

And yet, here she was, trudging through the filthy, desecrated former Truffula Valley, a news article held tight in her trembling fist, making her way to his office. Her mind buzzed with a million different emotions as she all but stomped across the gray, lifeless field, tree stumps littering the ground like gravestones. There was anger, of course, first and foremost, the most prominent feeling clutching at the pit of her stomach. But there was also a great confusion, a sadness, and a longing for the past and less complicated things, that weighted her heart down like a ton of bricks, right in the center of her chest. She knew that his intentions were good, and that he never in a million years would dream of hurting her - he _loved _her, she knew that - but she couldn't help but feel so angry, regardless of what he might have meant through all this.

He had _lied _to her. It made her hands shake just to think about it. All this time, she had thought that his factory had slowed down the production of the thneed, and that trees weren't getting chopped down as quickly as before. How had she managed to go an entire _two years_ before even noticing that the factory's expansions and biggering were going on anyway? How had she not seen that he had gotten exhausted and a little crankier again, just like it had used to be in the earlier days of his company? And how could he have managed to keep it from her this long, and why wouldn't he just be honest with her about his factory's goings-on? It wasn't like him to purposefully avoid talking to her about anything, but especially not work. She couldn't bring herself to grasp it.

It wasn't exactly the tree-chopping that had her in such a state, not really. Of course, it was an important issue, and it did make her angry, but if he had just told her from the beginning that he had slipped up and allowed his mother to make a faulty business choice for him, then she might have been more understanding of him. Did he really fear hearing her opinion so much that he couldn't stand to even tell her in the first place? Was he that scared that she would say something he didn't want to hear, and he would have to shut down like usual? Norma knew that he still loved her and respected her, but it just set her on fire to think that he had kept a secret from her all this time. The destruction of the ecosystem, she might have been able to look past and help him through; that was why she was there, to make sure he never has to go through things alone. So why would he just shut her out like this?

The news article that she held in her sweaty hand had clued her in to it all. She had gone out to the library today, just to kill some time while her husband was at work. (To be honest, she had _really _needed to be job-hunting, but she never could seem to find time for that.) Since she'd already read pretty much every book in the entire card catalog, she had decided to go look at some of the magazines that they had propped in a shelf on the wall closest to the checkout counter.

And then, she had spotted it - the Time Magazine issue with the Once-ler's face emblazoned on the front, accompanied by the caption "The Once-Ler : Too Big To Fail". She was used to seeing articles about her husband all over the place by now; his fame was nothing new to her. But something about the smirk on his face had troubled her, made her think for a moment. It hadn't quite seemed . . . _him_. So, she'd opened up the article and read it, her hands shaking harder with every second. It had explained, in great detail, how his factory had been biggering for the past two years, and the expansions were finally completed. But that wasn't the end of it; starting next month, the town of Greenville would be remodeled entirely, and the name would be changed to Thneedville.

So, she had checked out the magazine from the library without hesitation, and fully intended on showing it to him and demanding to know what was going on. Why would he give an interview to the general public about it, but refuse to clue her in?

She supposed it really didn't matter, anyway. Even in the article, when he had told the whole public about the expansions, he had lied through his teeth throughout the entire interview. He had fed the reporters completely ludicrious answers about how the factory was doing wonders for the world, and that sometimes sacrifices had to be made to make society a better place. He had kept insisting through the entire article, as he normally did whenever he talked to Norma about it, that it wasn't a bad thing, that it was totally harmless.

It wasn't the answers that he had given that bothered her, necessarily. She knew they were wrong, and she intended to speak to him about that, too. But what really drove her mad was that he had _known _all this time about the expansions, he had even told her right to her face before that the factory was slowed down and he really wasn't going to be biggering anymore. He had known, and hadn't told her.

Before she knew it, she was standing at the front doors of Thneed Incorporated, staring the giant, imposing building right in the face. Gears were turning at a slow, steady pace all along the building, conveyors creaking as they brought more and more Truffula tufts by the second to be turned into thneeds. All around her, she could hear the thrumming of the Super Axe-Hackers as they chugged along the valley, sending Truffula trees tumbling to their demises. She took a deep breath to steady herself, unsure why just being in front of the place made her nervous. She knew that nobody inside the building was as intimidating as the media or the factory itself made them out to be. They were human beings, just like her - and the most important one of them all was her husband.

She pushed the doors open, and strode inside.

On the inside of the building, she was instantly greeted by a rush of cool air. The thick, humid, muggy atmosphere and the smogulous smoke behind her was traded for a crisp chilliness that surrounded her on all sides as the doors shut behind her back. The walls were striped emerald green, in an eerie sort of mirror of her husband's favorite suit - she was sensing a pattern here. Every so often, windows punctuated the walls, but she couldn't help but notice that instead of allowing the gruesome outside landscape to show through, thick curtains were pulled over the glass, painted to resemble the Truffula Valley as it had been before all the biggering had started. She supposed he was in deeper denial than she had originally thought. A thick red carpet rolled out at her feet, as though it were a personal celebration of the Once-Ler's newfound celebrity. It muffled her quick footsteps as she all but marched down the hall.

"Excuse me," came a soft, slightly taunting little voice from Norma's left side.

She gave a little start, surprised, and turned to face a neatly-polished secretary's desk. Seated there was, of course, none other than the Once-Ler's mother in all her glory. Her hair was, as usual, styled crisply in a bouffant stacked atop her head, her eyes narrowed as she peered at Norma from behind her large spectacles. She had recently painted her fingernails bubblegum pink, and was now drumming them restlessly against the sleek surface of her desk. She arched an eyebrow expectantly, the expression on her face infuriatingly smug.

"Hello, Susie," greeted Norma, her tone of voice a little stiff. She gave her a slow, curt nod, and the older woman nodded halfheartedly in return. "I'm sorry, is there something you needed?"

Susie cleared her throat, bustling through her paperwork in an attempt to look busy as she replied breezily, "Well, I was just about to ask you if you, ahem . . . have an appointment?" She glanced up at Norma pointedly, and the younger girl stared back, utterly bemused.

"An appointment?" Norma repeated, scratching the top of her head. "What are you talking about?"

Susie sighed, a little impatiently, her tone of voice highly patronizing as she said, "With my _son_. The CEO. Y'all know good 'n well that if ya wanna talk with my boy, ya hafta set up a pre-scheduled appointment. He's a very busy man, you know." She stuck her rather large nose in the air and huffed a little, looking as though she hoped that this statement would get rid of Norma. "Soooo, if ya don't have yerself a prearranged meeting with him, I'm afraid I'll have to send ya home."

Norma's cheeks reddened indignantly, her mouth setting into an angry line across her face. An appointment? To talk to her husband? She didn't think so. She scoffed, folding her arms across her chest, still keeping a tight grip on the magazine. Norma didn't want to disrespect Oncie's mother; as much as she despised the woman and didn't agree with a single word she said, she still didn't want to make any more trouble with her in-laws than what had already been created. After all, with everything else going on, who needed family drama like that? Still, she couldn't help but get even angrier, given her current state of mind. And she was never one to be shy about telling people what was on her mind. It wasn't her style to hold her feelings back.

"I-I'm sorry, Ms. Once-ler, but I'm his _wife_," she responded as evenly as possible. She set her jaw stubbornly, determined to stand her ground against this woman. Susie Once-ler would not intimidate her they way that she pushed around and bullied her son. She'd hurt too many people already. "And this is really important. It'll only take a minute, I promise." She held up her hands at level with her chest, a little defensive, but mostly an appeasing action.

Without waiting to see what her mother-in-law would say to _that_, Norma spun around on her heel and headed for the long, winding spiral staircase that led to her husband's all but marched up the staircase, trying her best to ignore all the imposing, slightly intimidating portraits of the Once-Ler hanging on the walls. They just weren't _him_; she'd never seen him make faces like those, and she didn't think he really had it in him to be threatening or arrogant like the paintings made him look. He had an ego, yes, but that was different from the outright foolhardiness on display here.

She finally came to a set of large, ostentatious double-doors; they were cherry-red, and very tall, likely to accomodate for her husband's height. In the center of the double-doors, there was a golden sign, with her husband's name on display in looping, elaborate letters. The entire building just seemed so lavish, but she knew that behind this door, they had pulled out all the stops to make his office as ornate as possible. All that extravagance was obviously unnecessary, and Oncie himself had said to her on more than one occassion that he didn't quite know what to do with it all, but it seemed to validate him in a way.

She reached out, and rapped on the door there times, trying to control the shakiness in her hands. She drew back a step or two as she waited, clamping her lips nervously. She was uncharacteristically anxious as she stood there in the silence, waiting to be acknowledged. A thousand thoughts a minute raced through her mind. Once she got into his office, what would she even say to him? How could she say all the things that were on her mind, and keep it as brief as possible?

The Once-Ler's voice brought her out of her thoughts. "Come back later," he said, in the voice that she knew he saved for the businessmen who came to his office when he was bored and drowning in paperwork. She knew not to take his brusqueness personally, especially since he didn't even know it was her, but she couldn't help but be a little unnerved, regardless. "I'm kinda busy right now. I'm not taking meetings today."

She cleared her throat, squaring her shoulders with determination. "Hey, Once-Ler. It's me. Norma." Without waiting for him to welcome her into the office - or shoo her away, possibly - she pushed the doors open and edged into the room. She was barely through the doorway when she said, "Can I talk to you? It won't take long. I don't want to waste any of your valuable time, you know." She tried to keep her voice conversational, humorous, but given her current state of mind, her comments fell a little flat.

The doors shut behind her, and she took a moment to take in her surroundings. The green walls, the tall, covered-up windows, just like in the lobby. The large, circular desk, and the giant velvet chair in which her husband sat. It all seemed like something out of a dream. A bizarre, awful dream - but not quite a nightmare, either. And then, her eyes fell upon a tiny scale model of the Once-Ler's plans for "Thneedville" - and her heart stopped. So, then, the article had to be true. And worst of all, she could tell by the look of concern in his eyes that he could tell something was wrong with her by now. As angry as she was, she would hate to have to hurt him in order to say what she wanted to get off her chest.

He stood up from his desk, and Norma edged towards him, unsure of what to do or say. Instantly, his guard fell down the minute that they were alone, and instead of the nose-in-the-air man that the media was trying to paint him out to be, he was just a man again, just her husband. His blue eyes widened and he greeted her by brushing a kiss on her cheek; she stiffened a little under his touch, but did not brush him away. She would never be that cruel, no matter how deep her anger went.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft and gentle. "What's wrong? You've used the whole 'valuable time' thing on me before, and I know you only get this way when there's something on your mind - or if you're mad at me. So what's the matter?" He looked so oblivious, and it broke her heart to have to bring him back to a harsh reality. But she'd been tricked one time too many for her liking.

Wordlessly, she handed him the magazine, trying to keep the trembling in her fingers under control. She couldn't show signs of weakness right now, not when she was trying to get her point across to him. She had to speak to him with a logical and level mindset, because she knew that when he got angry, he became so blustery and erratic that he tended not to think about the words exchanged between them. She didn't want there to be too much animosity between them. It was best if she, like usual in their relationship, kept a stoic view on things and did her best to bring Oncie some stability to his more frenzied emotions.

She watched him carefully as he took the magazine in his hands, staring at the cover, eyebrows furrowed. He looked just as shaken and disdainful of the picture on the cover as she had felt, and Norma had to wonder what he was thinking. Was this what he had imagined all those years ago, when he'd craved and longed for fame and fortune? Was this who he had wanted to become? There was a heavy, tangible silence between them, and her heart sank like a stone to the very bottom of her chest as she saw the recognition flicker across his features. A deep red color rose to his cheeks and he looked up at her, blue eyes wide and almost pleading, as though he knew what she was about to say.

"Norma, listen - "

"No, _you_ listen," she interjected, staring him right in the eyes, clenching her fists and trying to look strong despite their height difference. Her voice was much sharper and colder than she had ever been with him before, and she hadn't really intended on sounding that way at all. She knew he had been yelled at and berated his entire life, so she tried to avoid that, but this time, the words just kept tumbling out and she couldn't stop them. "I have tried _so_ hard over the years that I've known you and been in love with you to be patient and support you and your work as best as I could. Don't you know how proud of you I was back on that day, when you told me that you'd finally taken charge and told your mother no more expansions? You _promised_ me that it wouldn't happen again - "

Once-Ler sighed, already on edge and defensive, before the conversation had really even kicked in. "I _know _what I promised, but doesn't anyone around here understand that sometimes, things _change_ and well, promises can't really be _kept _anymore?" He huffed and turned, pacing busily towards the balcony at the far end of his office, where he could look out at the valley. "With everything that I'm doing, I'm making the whole town better! Thneedville's gonna be revolutionary, you'll see."

Norma flinched back in surprise at his words; she certainly hadn't expected an answer like that from him. So, he'd basically admitted right then and there that he'd broken his promises anyway, even if he did have every intention of keeping them to begin with? Was that how it was for him? Whenever he got bored with a situation or whenever he saw the opportunity to get out of something, he could figure out a way to slither away from it? She'd never thought him to be like that before; what were all these countless hours locked away in his office doing to him? Changing him? Or bringing out traits that were there before, but too tucked away to see?

"Wh-what about your promise to be in love with me?" she answered, surprised by the sudden softness of her voice. She swallowed hard, steadying herself a little bit, and clasped her hands together tightly, wringing her fingers nervously. "What if things change, and you decide that you can't keep that promise anymore either?" That was a low blow, she had to admit, but she couldn't deny that the thought had crossed her mind more than once ever since learning about the factory expansions.

Immediately, he wheeled around, his focus turning onto Norma in a flash. When she saw the stricken look on his face, she almost regretted letting the words tumble out of her mouth. His face blanched, leaving his cheeks a blotchy, mottled color. She could tell he was humiliated and angered and saddened all at once, but didn't really know what to say to comfort him. It was certainly awkward, wanting to be mad at him and wanting to take him in her arms and tell him that everything was going to be okay at the same time.

"W-well, that's . . . that's _different_!" he sputtered, looking incredulous. He crossed the room over to her, closing the gap between them in three long-legged strides. His movements were as big and granduous as ever. "I _love _you, Norma, a-and you know that! You can't - you can't use that against me, that's not fair!"

He looked angrier at her right now than she had ever seen him before, and she shrunk back a little for a few seconds, unsure of what to do or say. He seemed more wounded than anything else, and was now nursing an injured pride. She knew better than anyone that the Once-Ler hated being told when he was wrong; he had quite a knack for shutting down and shutting out anything that he just didn't want to hear. The way he was acting now was just part of the process. The pained look in his eyes cut her all the way through to the core; she hated making him feel that way, but she knew that in order to say what she was thinking, it probably had to be this way.

"Not _fair_?" she repeated, and when she did, a little bit of anger flared up in her belly, as well. She drew herself up to full height, still falling several inches short of the Once-Ler, and resisted the urge to turn on her heel and walk right out of the room right that second. "No, let me tell _you_ what's not fair, Once-Ler. Wh-what's not fair is that I've stood right by you all this time, telling you time and time again that you could go to me for _anything_. And no matter what, I've tried to support you."

"Support me?" he all but spat, his mouth twisting into an ugly snarl. He rested one hand on his chest defensively as he spoke, looking infuriatingly incredulous. "Oh, yeah, if supporting me means always telling me what it is I'm doing _wrong_, never trusting me to make a few choices for myself every once in a while - "

"I was only trying to keep you _safe_!" she exclaimed, her voice raising in both pitch and volume as her emotions mounted and boiled inside her gut. She could feel herself shaking now, but it didn't feel real. He couldn't be talking to her like this; she couldn't be talking to _him _like this. She'd thought that they were past all the business arguing now. She swallowed hard, and her tone softened just a little bit as she stared earnestly up at him and added slowly, "Don't you understand that there's nothing in the world more important to me than making sure you're safe and happy? And loved? How could you say that I'm _against _you, when all this time I've been living _for _you?"

A long silence followed. The tension between them was palpable, almost like a giant brick wall had been built up between the two of them, made entirely out of words, and they could do nothing to break it. She drew a deep, shaky breath, hardly able to comprehend the words that had just fallen from her mouth. It was even worse knowing that both of them were hurting right now, and as much as they wanted to comfort each other, their pride would not let them reach out and admit their respective weaknesses.

Still, as much as Norma wanted the arguing to end for good, she couldn't bring herself to regret what she had said. It felt good to finally have her feelings out there in the open. Part of being married meant respecting and loving each other, even when you didn't necessarily agree with your if she never let him know how she was feeling, then how could things ever get better? After all, that was one of the things that he had told her, long ago, that she needed to work on - she had a tendency to shut people out when she got upset, and so she was working on making her problems a little more known. She just hated that nine times out of ten, her husband fell on the receiving end of it.

"Why didn't you just _tell _me about the expansions?" she asked him softly, her voice wavering unsteadily as she gazed pleadingly up at him. "I-I wouldn't have judged you, don't you know that? You mean everything to me."

She watched in silence as the Once-Ler's thoughts came crushing down onto him. His face paled, and a sudden look of awed realization appeared on his features, lightening up the cloudy anger in his blue eyes. The frustrated facial expression fell away, replaced by a look of horrified enlightenment. It was as though he was realizing for the first time how badly he had hurt her, as though he were pushing back the cobwebs of his mind after stumbling out of the darkness of a coma. He blinked rapidly, drawing a shallow breath, and gulped nervously. He was obviously searching for the right words to say, but for the first time in his life couldn't think of anything at all.

"Norma," he cried out weakly when the quietness had dragged on for a while. "N-Norma."

He reached out almost numbly for her, his hands lightly brushing against her shoulders. His entire body was trembling, and as much as she wanted to reach out and hug him tightly, she kept herself grounded and still in his grasp. Finally, the Once-Ler's control broke and he pulled her into a tight, steady embrace, his heartbeat thudding against his rib cage. He made a soft, whimpering noise in the back of his throat, stroking slowly along the length of her spine. She hugged him back, unable to help herself, and he rocked slowly, almost comfortingly, enjoying the moment for several seconds.

"I'm really, really sorry," he murmured, almost childlike, his voice low and soft in her ear. "I-I really hurt you, didn't I? And I said I never would, I said I'd never act that way to you." He pulled back from her suddenly, looking her right in the eyes; instead of looking intimidating and tall and dashing in his green suit, now he just looked like a scared little boy wearing clothes that were a little too big for him. His tall green hat looked twice as ridiculous, his eyes wide and afraid. "I should've told you sooner - I-I really was going to, I just . . . I was trying to keep you happy. I'm sorry I lied to you about all this, b-but please . . . trust that I know what I'm doing here."

"I-I do," she said, nodding, trying to sound more convinced than she actually felt. "I do trust you. And I do forgive you," she continued as calmly as possible, still not willing to show him too much affection yet. She loved him, yes, but the fact remained that she was still angry, and needed a little time to go think about things before she dove right back into normal conversation with him. "But . . . I think I need to go stay with my family for a little while. Long enough to think over things for a bit. B-but just trust that I still love you anyway, I'm just . . . confused right now."

She could see the conflict in his eyes as he mulled this over, and she hated it with everything in her. She remembered the first night she had ever stayed the night at the Once-Ler's house, and how he had been so scared to have to sleep alone. He had all but begged her to sleep next to him that night, just so that he wouldn't have to face all the terrifying thoughts plaguing his mind by himself. She hated to leave him like that, in that state, even for just a few days, a few weeks at most. But she felt like she just had to if she ever wanted to make sense of her own thoughts.

Finally, the Once-Ler sighed and nodded slowly, a grim understanding in his eyes. "When you're ready," he said softly, his voice only tremoring slightly, "you know where to come find me." He offered her a weak little smile, and Norma returned it, for just a second.

She sighed as well, her facial expression softening somewhat. "Thanks for understanding," she replied with a nod, reaching out and tentatively stroking the side of his face. "A-and don't worry, I won't be long. I _will _come back for you, you know that, right? I'll never leave you. I-I love you." She shivered a little at the words; they both brought her comfort and a little pain at the same time, for dueling reasons. "I love you," she repeated more firmly, leaning in and giving him a very chaste kiss on the cheek.

She could feel the blush spreading across his features once again, and almost laughed at the familiarity of the gesture. "I love you, too," he answered, his voice aching with melancholy and regret. "Please don't ever forget that. I-I just don't _think _sometimes. I slip up. You're right, I should've told you. But I was just trying to . . . I-I don't know what I was trying to do, handle business choices on my own, I guess. I should've let you know what was going on, I was wrong about that much. A-and even though I went through with all that expansion stuff, I do still love you. You mean the world to me, Norma. I love you." The desperation in his voice made her heart twist with the longing to reach out and reassure him.

Instead, she kept quiet and turned for the door, carrying his words with her, replaying them over and over again in her mind as many times as she could. She wouldn't forget. She promised. She promised that she would love him no matter what. And Norma never went back on a promise.

Especially not one as important as this.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five: The Fallen Factory

"Norma!" Jean practically screamed from the living room, her voice high-pitched and urgent. "Norma, come quick! Have you seen what's on the news?!"

"Obviously not," said Norma, who had been spending the past few hours holed up in her old bedroom, deeply immersed in one of her favorite novels. "Why? What's going on _now_?"

She had the distinct feeling that her younger sister was probably getting herself all worked up over some celebrity break-up drama playing on the evening news, so she didn't really take the shock and horror in Jean's voice too seriously. After all, her little sister had acted the very same way when she had learned that her favorite boy-band's lead singer had cut off all his curly blonde hair, making himself considerably less attractive in Jean's eyes. So for now, she figured her sister's excitement over whatever it was that was happening could wait. Right now, _A Tale of Two Cities _had to be re-read by Norma for about the thousandth time.

"Oh, will you just get _in _here!" Jean's voice called back.

There was something different about her tone of voice this time that made Norma actually pause for a moment, arching an eyebrow. Maybe something was actually _wrong _right now. Jean normally didn't sound so pressing over any subject, even her favorite celebrities and their private affairs. It was unlike her to get too incredibly, seriously worked up over just anything. Maybe this really was an occurence worth investigating. She glanced at her book, and then at the door, as if it would help her make her decision.

And, with a heavy sigh, she slipped her bookmark inside the tome to mark her place, resting in on the bedside table. Hopping off the bed, she headed for the door and down the hall to the living room, where, sure enough, there was quite the commotion going on.

Norma's mother and father were both seated on the couch in front of the television, practically glued to the screen, especially Mrs. Harlow. The screen was flickering, creating a glow on their faces and in the room; Norma could hear an indistinct mumbling from the T.V., but was too far away to hear what the reporters were saying as of yet. When she edged into the room completely, she saw Jean curled up in a chair close by the sofa, looking every bit as stricken as their parents. There was a heavy seriousness in the air, a grim feeling settling in the pit of her stomach that made her shudder.

"What's going - " Norma began, but she was cut off by Jean, who put her index finger to her mouth to indicate for Norma to be quiet.

"Just watch," Jean hissed in a quick, hasty whisper, gesturing next to the T.V. screen.

For once in her life complying to her sister's orders without a trace of an argument, Norma turned her attention to the television, her brows furrowed in concentration. Onscreen, the local news station was currently showing picture after picture of the barren Truffula Valley; she would recognize those gray, lifeless fields anywhere, tree stumps all over the place, stuck around as haphazardly as land mines. In almost every picture, the shadow of the Once-Ler's factory could be seen in the distance, a great looming reminder of all that she was risking to be in love with someone capable of destruction on this level.

She was so mystified by the pictures that she failed to notice for several seconds the fact that, despite the pictures being taken in the valley, there wasn't a single Truffula tree in sight. And then, it hit her all of the sudden. Wait a minute. That was certainly odd. Even though Oncie was chopping down the trees, there were so many of them in the valley; surely some of them would have been captured in the photographs, even if they were limp and listless-looking. But in these shots, there wasn't a single tree to be found.

She got an explanation when she saw the headline scrolling along at the bottom of the screen in bold red letters, almost yelling at her through the television. Her heart stopped.

_**BREAKING NEWS: NO MORE TRUFFULA TREES?**_

In her state of shock, it took her a long moment to register exactly what the reporter onscreen was saying. The camera had switched now from the pictures of the valley to a shot of a beautiful young anchorwoman seated at a desk in a studio, a glowing blue screen behind her back. She wore a neatly-pressed salmon-pink suit, neatly bobbed blonde hair, and a grim expression on her round face. Her elbows were propped on the desk, her fingers steepled together, her voice crisp and professional as she reeled off the story they were feeding her from the teleprompter just offscreen.

"Good afternoon, I'm Marsha Somerset. You're watching Thneedville Local News, Station 13. This just in: The very last Truffula tree has been chopped down. Our sources say that about five days ago, the tree was felled just outside of the renowned Thneed Incorporated factory headquarters, the last one of its own kind within thousands of miles, according to botanists and geographers alike. The Truffula tree, a rare plant in need of a very specific habitat, was placed on the official Endangered Plant Species list two years ago, when Thneedville expansions first went under way. As many know, Thneed Incorporated chopped down the Truffula trees continuously over a period of about four years, in order to make their famously flexible product from the tree's tufts. There is a rising suspicion surrounding the factory's role in the environment's downfall, as well as the disappearance of all animal life in the valley, such as the brown bar-ba-loots, the Swammee Swans, and the humming fish. The Once-Ler, CEO, President, and founder of Thneed Incorporated, has declined to offer any comments."

The screen switched next to a man in a crisp, wrinkle-free navy blue business suit, his hair neatly coiffed and shiny with gel. He was a reporter, as well, considerably older than Marsha, but he held himself with the same air of importance. He was carrying a microphone, and was standing in the Thneedville town square, where a large ticker showing the number of thneeds sold was slowly beginning to tick to a halt.

Already? Norma had known without the Truffula trees the the thneed business would quickly fail, but were they beginning to fall to their feet so fast? It had only been a matter of days since the last tree had chopped down. The thneeds were selling so fast that the company was already having trouble keeping up; soon enough, they wouldn't be able to make anymore to keep with supply and demand. And then Once-Ler's business, his fame, his success . . . it would all be gone.

"Hello, I'm Frank Evans, covering this breaking news story live in downtown Thneedville," said the reporter, sounding grim, giving the television screen a determined glower. "Yes, Marsha, it has been confirmed - the very last Truffula tree is _gone_. So now that leaves us, the general public, to discuss: What will become of Thneed Incorporated? For years, they have stood at the very top of the business pillar, an almost indestructible company with a product that could literally be anything. But the question is: will this sudden shortage of raw materials send Thneed Incorporated's business grinding to a halt entirely? And of course, there's always the lingering thought - why didn't we learn about the last tree falling down when it first happened? Why are we just now, days afterward, hearing about it for the first time? Have we as a public been lied too? Thoughts, Marsha?"

Marsha Somerset continued talking in her businesslike tone of voice, but Norma stopped listening. Her hands trembled at her sides, her mind spinning dizzily. Gone. All of them, just gone. And it had only happened a few days ago. It couldn't be. There were so many of them, how could all of them be gone? How could her husband be the cause of all of it? He was so sweet, so kind, so loving - how could he have singlehandedly destroyed an entire ecosystem out of pure selfishness? That wasn't him. It wasn't possible. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening.

But it was clear from the looks on her family's faces that it _was_ true. That it _had_ happened. And there was nothing that she could do about it. She glanced around the room, making eye contact with each of them long enough to absorb what their facial expressions seemed to be conveying. Her mother's eyebrows were knitted together with concern, sadness and a little bit of pity in her eyes. Jean was staring at her with a vague interest in her eyes, as though she was wondering what Norma might do next; there was a little bit of disappointment in Jean's eyes, and Norma couldn't help but feel a pang in her heart at the sight of it. Her younger sister had always seen nothing but the best in the Once-Ler; he had been her hero. Mr. Harlow just looked as stoic as ever, as if he had expected all of this to happen and this was only confirming what he had already been betting on this whole time.

Norma had to admit, as the haze lifted from her mind and she was able to think a little more clearly on the subject, she had seen this coming, too. She didn't know why this was such a shocking blow. After all, hadn't she been saying to her husband for years that if he didn't stop, this would happen? Hadn't she known all along that things were getting out of both their control? The Lorax had seen it, had shown it to her himself. So why had she stupidly gone along and thought that this would never happen or that it wouldn't matter when it did? She had brushed it to the side too many times - maybe if she'd said something more to the Once-Ler, then this wouldn't have happened.

It had been three weeks since she had decided to stay with her family at her old house for a while. She hadn't really decided at first when she was going to go back to the house that they shared, but now it was clear that he needed her back as soon as possible. She had to go see him. She couldn't imagine what he must be going through right now, all alone; his wife had left him all alone, and he needed her now. She had to wonder if things would have been better if she had maybe stayed instead of going to live with her parents for a while. But she excused that thought rather quickly; there was no denying that Oncie was headed for the same end result with his business, no matter what.

Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with emotion, her entire body trembling as she continued to stre blankly at the television screen. She hated that she couldn't be enough for the Once-Ler, that she couldn't have helped him when he had really needed her guidance the most! She could have saved him from having to deal with something like this, but no matter how hard she had tried, no matter what she had said or done, nothing had worked. It just wasn't fair that as much as they loved each other, they weren't very good at all at taking care of each other when they needed it.

"Norma?" Jean's voice brought her out of her thoughts, surprisingly gentle and sympathetic, for her younger sister. Norma looked in her sister's direction, feeling her face redden at the look of empathy on the girl's face. "Is everything okay? See - I told you it was really important," she added, unable to resist a little 'I-told-you-so'-ing.

"What do you think you'll do now, dear?" said her mother as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, her brown eyes wide and questioning. Louise had always loved the Once-Ler as if he were her own son, had loved him more wholly and genuinely than Susie ever could. She could see that the sadness on her mother's face was real and raw. "Do you need anything? Anything at all?"

Norma gulped, glancing around the room, suddenly very aware of all the curious eyes trained on her. At last, she found her voice and clenched her fists at her sides, saying as strongly as she could manage, "Well, you _know_ everything's not okay, Jeanie. Th-they're . . . they're all gone. All the trees, everything. It's hard to say exactly what ought to be done right now."

Louise, looking genuinely concerned, rose from her seat on the sofa and pulled her daughter into a tight embrace. For once, the smell of her mother's perfume was a familiar and welcome comfort, instead of a scent that was so strong it burned her nose. Right now, Norma wanted nothing more than to just melt into the affection and hide there forever in the warmth of her mother's love. It seemed so easy to just want to give in and curl away from the real world's problems for good.

"Whatever you need to do," she whispered in Norma's ear, her voice soft and reassuring, just like Norma was a child again, about to leave to go to school for the first time, "we'll understand. And we'll all support you one-hundred-percent, the entire way. We love you, Little Norma," she continued, using her affectionate pet name for her daughter.

Norma swallowed hard, fighting back tears all of the sudden. She wasn't entirely sure what was causing the sudden surge of emotion, whether it was her mother's comforting words or her twisted-up, tightened heart and her concern for her husband surrounding the factory and the trees. But for whatever the reason, her heart or her mother, the tears were welling up in her eyes, and it was all she could do to hold them back. She made a tiny choking sound, swallowing up her own feelings, and clung more tightly to Louise, barely biting back a soft whimper.

Finally regaining her composure, Norma answered in a shaky, unsteady little voice, "I-I think I need to go see him." She paused, cleared her throat, and swiped hastily at her eyes, drawing back a little from her mother's embrace before beginning again. This time, when she spoke, she sounded a little more like her usual brave, independant self. "I can't leave him alone anymore. Goodness knows what's happening to his factory right now, and I'm sure what he's feeling is even worse than what I'm feeling, too. Maybe if I can help him, then we can try and save him still. It doesn't have to end on a bad note." She knew that it probably did, but now was as good a time as ever to start thinking more optimistically, like her husband. "Thanks for letting me stay with you guys again. But I've got someone who needs me to get back to them now."

"That's so romantic," sighed Jean wistfully from her seat, gazing up at Norma with an expression that, if Norma wasn't mistaken, almost looked like admiration. For once, there was nothing at all teasing about Jean's attitude towards her sister. It was a strange change of pace to actually get along with her for a few seconds.

Norma blushed at her younger sister's words of encouragement, a little embarrassed, surprised, and flustered all at once. She fiddled with the hem of her blouse sheepishly, then looked over at her father, unsure of exactly what to say to him. She knew that even though he had been starstruck and warm and welcoming when he'd first met the Once-Ler, he had quickly grown to dislike him once Norma had moved in with him. Mr. Harlow held the least respect for Oncie out of all of them, which was surprising considering how much he had liked Once-Ler when they'd first met.

She didn't expect her decision to be met with any words of approval from her father. After all, he had always been extremely overprotective of her, and the Once-Ler had hurt her. Martin Harlow had no room in his heart to respect the younger man anymore. And yet, when she turned to look at him tentatively, nervous as to what he would say to her, she saw him nod his head once. There was a sad, grim sort of understanding in his eyes, and it made her heart ache for a moment as she realized how similiar his facial expression was to her husband's when he had realized she would be staying away from their home for a while.

"Dad?" Norma prompted, raising her eyebrows slowly.

Martin Harlow sighed, resting his large hands on his rounded knees. "I think you're probably right, Normie," he said, nodding his head slowly, though he almost looked like he regretted having to admit that he wanted Oncie to get his daughter back. "I don't know your husband too well, but I do know that a wounded pride is dangerous for any man - even if he did deserve it. And I've always believed that if you've got it in your power to do good things for other people, then . . . " he shrugged his shoulders and sighed, "you should go ahead and do it. No matter what bad things they might've done." He paused for a moment, biting his lip, and then rolled his eyes complacently. "Aaaaand I suppose, in a way, the Once-Ler isn't . . . _so _awful. I'm still not a fan, mind you - but it could be much worse."

Norma supposed that was true. After all - it _could _be Arthur. Even if the Once-Ler was clueless, impulsive, reckless, and easily impressionable, his intentions were always good. That was more than she could say for her old friend Arthur Wiggins, who knew nothing more than acting for his own selfish reasons. The Once-Ler had made a lot of mistakes - that much was clear. He had acted without thinking, and had sought out to further his own personal gain, but Norma knew that deep down he wasn't a bad person. He just needed a little help right now to get himself back on his own two feet again.

She had to admit, though, one part of the news _did _have her more than just a little bit worried. The reporters had said that it had been five whole days since the last Truffula tree had been chopped down. How on Earth had she managed to be totally unaware of that? After all, even if she was staying with her family for a while, she always kept an eye on the Truffula Valley. She could see it from her house, looming like a giant ugly shadow in the distance, and it was also visible on the way to the Thneedville library. Also, the Once-Ler normally would have called her if something like that had happened. He would have let her know about all of that, he would have done _something_. He wouldn't just leave her in the dark, not if he needed her.

Then again, he had proven himself entirely capable of keeping secrets from her about the factory before . . .

She frowned, shaking her head, firmly deciding not to allow herself to think that way about him. She loved him, even if he had made the wrong choices. She had seen that day, in his office, how contrite he had been about lying to her, and she had been able to forgive him. She would not hold it over his head for the rest of his life; Norma was always the sort of person to want to move past things.

She'd tried her best to just trust him and support him, even when she had known him to be making the wrong choices, and had done her best to steer him on the right track again. But clearly, it hadn't been enough. So she owed it to him now to be as much help as she possibly could; despite her anger and disappointment in him, she would be loyal.

_After all_, she reminded herself, gently allowing her fingers to graze lightly over her lower belly, in an almost maternal gesture, _now you both just might have someone _else_ in your new family with each other to be loyal too._

Norma hadn't dared to tell the Once-Ler how late she was this month. The last time they had spoken, they had both been so angry with one another that she had almost feared that it would end badly for both of them. She knew that he would never physically lay a finger on her - he was gentle and always good to her, as far as that was concerned. But he could definitely hurt her with words when he got in the right mindset for it, all rigid and defensive. And she knew herself to be quite spiteful when she wanted to be, as well. That, and the fact that she had started out the day angry with him that day anyway. It wouldn't have been a good time to tell him that she might be pregnant.

He had told her before how much he wanted to be a father. She knew very well that it was something that they both wanted more than anything, to raise a family of their very own. He'd never really been loved and wanted himself, after all, so it only made sense that he would want at least one child to cherish with everything he had and make sure that he never made the mistakes his parents did.

(With Norma, he was always very open and free with his own feelings, sometimes sitting beside her curled up in the bedsheets at night and talking for hours on end about his own dreams, his ambitions and whether or not he'd like a family. He was incredibly interested in her thoughts, as well, but he'd always had a bit of an ego, so he tended to go a little bit in the "me-me-me" direction with those conversations sometimes. Still, Norma had never minded - she was a much better listener than talker when it came to the Once-Ler, anyhow.)

She knew that when she finally did get around to telling him, he would be ecstatic. In fact, he might need that now more than ever, given the current situation with his factory. But she never could seem to find the proper time to break the news to him; they always seemed to be either angry or sad or some other entirely untimely emotion, never just happy like they used to be. But now . . . now that all this had happened, would there even _be_ a proper time to spring news on him like this? After all, now that she thought about it, it might be earlier than he had originally planned for a little baby to be in the picture . . . and with all this happening with his company, he might not really be so overjoyed as Norma had originally anticipated.

She sighed a little to herself, giving her belly an affectionate little pat before squaring her shoulders and heading silently for the door. She supposed she really didn't have to think too hard about it right now - anyway, she didn't even know that she _was_ pregnant for sure yet. It could just be one little missed period, and she knew how badly he wanted to be a father - she wouldn't want to get his hopes up for nothing if it turned out to be a false alarm. She would have to be patient and wait until she was really sure.

Besides . . . right now, she had to go find her husband. From the sound of the news program, there was a lot still left to take care of. And Norma wasn't entirely sure what she would find when she got there.

* * *

For about the thousandth time within the last few hours, the loud, strident sound of the telephone ringing pierced through the resounding, heavy silence in the Once-Ler's office, chasing away his ability to think properly. He gave a frustrated sigh, his face buried in the polished wood of his desk; did he even want to _try_ bothering to answer the phone? After all, he knew what the call would be about anyway, even if he didn't know precisely which reporter was calling him this time. _Mr. Onceler, why are all the trees gone? Mr. Onceler, what could you have done differently? Why was this kept a secret from us this whole time? _

And how exactly could he answer them when even _he_ didn't know the exact reason why?

There were a million different reasons and motivations behind his decision to comply to his mother's wishes and chop down the Truffula trees. It seemed nearly impossible to pinpoint it down to just one satisfactory, full answer. And all of those reasons were so close to home, so incredibly personal and sensitive, that he didn't dare reveal any of them to reporters, anyway - even if he could decide on an answer to give them. It hurt too much to even _think _about, so why would he talk about it?

The most obvious reason, he supposed, was his family. All his life, he had tried his very hardest just to get them all to glance his way and not turn their noses up, let alone respect him. He craved their approval the way one would need air, or food and water. From a young age, all he'd ever been told was that he would never amount to anything, never be worthy of their love or attention. And of course, given his determination and grit, this only motivated him even further to go forth and prove them all wrong.

That's where the thneed had begun; he'd grown up poor, and his family had never had what they needed. No matter what he had tried, he hadn't been what they needed from him; so he'd invented the thneed, an invention that could be _anything _they could ever want. He'd only ever wanted to do good things, to make sure that nobody ever had to go through the same childhood that he had. Good intentions changed the situation a little, didn't they? He wasn't a bad person, deep down. Just a guy who'd gotten hopelessly lost and made a huge mistake.

He supposed, now that he looked back on it, his longing for the love he was never shown as a child ended up being a wild goose chase all along. Those people could never love him - at least, not the way he wanted them too. Not unless there was a bank account involved. All this time, he'd been chasing the affections and admirations of entirely the wrong people.

Just one more thing to add to his continually-growing list of things to regret, it seemed.

Part of him wanted to believe that his biggering factory and his destruction of the environment, down to the very last tree, hadn't been _entirely _selfish. He knew that he'd had some pretty shameful motives behind the abject devestation of the ecosystem, but not all of his reasons were necessarily bad ones. After all, in the middle of all that self-centered questing for validation and making his own pride feel good, there was also his desire to make sure that Norma and the family he would have with her in the future would be safe. He wanted so badly to be happy and secure with her, but that could never happen without enough money to go around.

Norma had never been poor, not like he had. She didn't understand, and never had, really. She didn't know what it meant to have to really work to have everything they could ever need and want. He knew what that was like, and he'd lost his father to poverty. He didn't want anyone else he loved to get too tired of the tougher side to life and just desert him. He couldn't be put through that again. And besides, he had promised Norma when they'd gotten married that he would always be there to provide for her. If he couldn't keep any of his other promises, then he would at the very least honor that one.

Even deeper down within the confines of his heart that he cared to visit, he thought that he might have actually even _wanted_ to bigger his factory. After all, he'd always had a choice, hadn't he? His mother and his lawyers and whomever else had always pushed him towards various business decisions surrounding expansions and the like, but they had never had the authority to decide for him. At any time, he could have taken the money that he had already made and been content with that.

_Why, you idiot?_ he asked himself, hitting his forehead with the heel of his hand, a lump in his throat. _Why couldn't that much have just been enough for you?_

He just . . . hadn't been able to stop. It had felt so good, so _good _to finally be recognized by everyone that had once jeered and scorned him. He hadn't been able to resist the limelight, and it had completely rendered him within fame's clutches. Maybe part of the reason why he had always been so defensive when it came to his business was that he had really _wanted_ it, in the end. Anything that threatened to take away the fame he'd finally earned, after so long just yearning away for it, was viewed as dangerous in his eyes. He hadn't wanted to step away from his spotlight. He'd always wanted more. And even then, _more _wasn't enough.

And now . . . well, he definitely saw the end result of _that_ line of thinking now.

It had been five days since the last Truffula tree had been chopped down, and things were spiraling downhill faster than the Once-Ler felt he could so much as draw a decent breath. Already, his hard-earned success and renown was beginning to slip through his fingers, his factory grinding to a halt. They had been operational for the days following the last tree chopping down, only to make and sell the last thneeds with the tufts that they had left, but Oncie knew that it wouldn't last long. No more trees equalled no more thneeds, it didn't take an idiot to figure it out. And once the last tufts had been used up and the very last thneed sold, then everything would be gone for good.

He had already told his employees to go find new work; he'd let them all go yesterday, when the situation had really had time to settle in and he realized how many peoples lives had been ruined from this. If it weren't for his lawyers, PR people, and business associates bothering him constantly on the telephone, he would shut down the factory immediately; but he needed to just leave it up until they were out of stock - which he was sure wouldn't take very long at all. For the first time, sitting alone in his office in the big, empty factory, he realized how lonely that Thneed Incorporated and everything to do with it had made him.

His family, of course, hadn't missed the opportunity to abandon ship when they'd seen the chance. After the last tree had fallen, it had only taken about a day for his mother to figure out that she needed to get out and avoid public scrutiny as soon as possible. She'd taken about a day to pack up their things in that shabby, smelly RV, and before he had even gotten the chance to comprehend it . . . they were gone. They had known, somehow, had known just as well as Oncie that the factory wouldn't survive. And they'd abandoned him.

_Son, you have let me down. _

That had hurt more than anything else. Susie hadn't given him any last goodbyes, hadn't hugged him or told him that she loved him or even that she would miss him - even a little bit. All he'd ever wanted was her approval, and here she was, driving off into the distance and leaving him in the dust, with only the assurance that he had failed to keep him company. He had tried so hard, and all for nothing. He supposed he should have seen it coming; after all, he'd always thought it a little suspicious that she only ever seemed interested in controlling him and all his work, and not being involved anywhere in his personal life. Still . . . he had hoped so much that she might have changed her mind about him, for _real _this time. He had wanted so badly for it to be real.

Somewhere inside him, he had held the bleak, flickering hope that even though the factory was crumbling to his feet, his family would have wanted to stay with them. He couldn't have been more wrong. And yet, even now, when he was left to struggle with his own reckless mistakes by himself, part of him hoped that they would come back. _They'll come back, of course they will_, he kept thinking, despite the fact that he knew they never would. _They couldn't just leave me here on my own like this. What kind of person would do that?_

People exactly like Susie Once-ler and the rest of his family, that's who.

And, to top it all off, just a few hours ago, all the animals had left the valley. For good this time. He'd reduced the environment to absolutely nothing - they couldn't even live there anymore, driven out of their own homes all because of him. Even Melvin was gone. He'd grown up with that mule; even though it was just an animal, he had been a part of his family, and it had hurt just as much to see him go as it had to be left by his mother. And when he remembered the look on little Pipsqueak's face . . . it broke his heart.

Had he really been so selfish that he had completely ignored the plight of his friends this entire time? It seemed appalling to look at himself and think that _he_ was the cause of all this. He really _had_ been the bad guy this whole time, and hadn't even realized it. No matter how good his intentions might have been, he would never be able to excuse or make up for all the wrong he'd done. Why did it take until _now _for him to see it? Why did it take all this devestation to open his eyes?

After all, Norma and the Lorax and even his good-for-nothing father had warned him time and time again about it. They'd known - they had all seen, and he'd just been so trapped up in his own fame that he hadn't even taken the time to notice. Or maybe he _had _noticed, and just had refused to acknowledge it. Maybe he wasn't as good a person as he really believed himself to be, and he had just been fooling himself the entire time. There were so many questions that he still had to answer for himself - and he didn't seem to be making any sense of _any_ of them right now. It would take an eternity for him to repair the damage done; maybe then he would finally know the reasoning behind all of this.

The Lorax had been lifted away, too, right before the Once-Ler's very eyes. Oncie had hoped that maybe his friend would forgive him, that they could look past all of that and things could just be as they used to be. Back in the days when the grass was still green, and the air still crisp and fresh. But even the Lorax had shaken his head and flown away, without even a last word of goodbye in the Once-Ler's direction. Gone, just like that. The Lorax had been the Once-Ler's first real friend; despite their misgivings and their clashes in the past, old Mustache had been the closest thing that Oncie had ever had to someone he could trust, until he met Norma. He'd just taken all of that for granted, tossing his promises to the side like that.

After the Lorax had gone away, Oncie had stood outside of his factory for almost a full hour, doing nothing, just sinking into the silence. Allowing the situation to really settle in on him, he supposed. He'd stood there for a while, and then had sunk to his knees beside the Unless rock and just stared at the word for as long as he could before he holed himself back up in his factory again. What could it mean? _Unless_. Unless what? Was that some sort of warning, some ultimatum? It was the last thing that the Lorax would ever say to him, a sort of parting message left behind for Oncie to figure out, he just knew it. If only he could figure out the meaning behind it. It had to be really significant, he knew that much; but what if the Lorax had placed his trust in the hands of the wrong person? Once-Ler had proven himself a pathetic failure once already. Maybe someone _else_ was really the answer here; of course, he'd have to work hard, and he would never forgive himself for what he'd done . . . but what could he possibly do to set things right?

That was all he wanted; just to make things right again.

He lifted his head from the desk, staring contemplatively for several seconds at the telephone as it continued its persistant ringing. Why should he answer it? He was already planning on closing the entire factory down early anyway, both to avoid the public's jeering when the inevitable collapse finally happened and because he was too ashamed to be a part of it anymore. Talking about the situation with the reporters or whomever else anymore would be a pointless, fruitless effort. He didn't owe them any explanations. After all, he was sure he knew what they were all saying about him by now - the exact same thing that he was saying about himself. He was selfish. Greedy. _Bad_.

Still . . . he figured he really had nothing to lose _or _gain from the call. He really had nothing else to do, except fill out all the paperwork required in shutting down Thneed Incorporated for good. Maybe it would feel good to be able to say all that he was feeling out loud, even if he did manipulate his answers a little bit to suit the questions that the reporters asked him. Maybe just making himself say something would make the entire situation feel more _real _to him. Right now, it still felt as though he were halfway caught between reality and a horribly vivid nightmare.

Just as he had begun to think seriously about it, reaching for the phone, however, it stopped ringing. The room was left in a resounding silence, and the Once-Ler was left alone with nothing but his troubling thoughts. At least the phone's obnoxious ringing had provided a bit of a distraction from all the guilt weighing so heavily on his heart right now. But now there was no buffer, and he was left to look around his office, at all the riches and material things that he had thought mattered. No. They didn't, really. They didn't matter. He sighed, aiming a determined glower at the silk top hat that sat on his desk, and tried to get his mind elsewhere. He was simply too exhausted to think anymore about all of this. But he couldn't take his mind off it, no matter how much he wanted too.

His office door creaked open, and he jumped in his seat, not having expected the silence to be interrupted again. Admittedly a little startled, he adjusted his tie out of old habit, raising his eyebrows to see who it was that had come to visit him. A stabbing, aching guilty feeling pierced right through the center of his chest when his eyes fell upon the familiar silhouette in the doorway. The curly hair, short, curvy body, and hands folded expectantly across her chest were second nature to him now. Norma. His posture immediately tensed a bit, his entire body on guard, as if he expected her to lash out at him, even though her facial expression seemed fairly benevolent.

He hadn't heard from or seen his wife in three weeks; she'd been staying with her parents all this time. So, honestly, he really didn't know what to expect from this conversation. Surely Norma would have the decency to keep from "I-told-you-so"-ing right now, of all times. Give him a few days, and sure, she could say whatever she wanted to her heart's content. But he couldn't deal with the weight of all that, not right now - no matter how much he might deserve it. Hearing it from the general public was one thing, but he didn't know if he could take it if the words came from his own wife. That was a different story entirely.

"Once-Ler?" Norma said, her voice surprisingly soft and tentative as she stood in the doorway. "Are you alright?"

At the sound of her saying his name, he stood up shakily from his desk. For a moment, he was a little surprised that his legs moved at all, as numb as he felt. He gulped unevenly, teetering for a second or two, rocking on the heels of his feet, unsure of what to do next. He watched carefully as Norma entered the room, her footsteps slow and almost cautious, as though she were coaxing a wounded animal from its hiding place. In the silence, the wood creaked under her feet. The doors to his office swung unceremoniously shut behind her, the sound making him flinch a little. He drew a little closer to her, so that he could see the tears glossing over in her brown eyes; she wasn't crying yet, but the redness in her eyes foretold of what was coming.

The two of them met in the center of the room, both of them absolutely quiet and studying each other. Suddenly, with her staring at him with those wide, conflicted eyes, he felt very small and defeated, unsure of what would even be the right thing to say. There were a million options he could go with right now. _I'm sorry_ would be the most obvious choice - he had the feeling he'd be giving his share of apologies to her anyway. _Norma, I was wrong. You were right all this time, I was wrong. I should've listened. _But no matter how he tried to force the words from his throat, he was suddenly finding it difficult to form even the simplest of sentences.

"I-I saw, on the news just now . . . " she tried again, hoping to get some sort of coherant response from him, though he was obviously exhausted, "I saw what happened." She paused, then frowned a little, sighing softly before saying, "What's going on? Why are you all cooped up in here? I've been worried sick about you. When did . . . when did all this happen?" She raised her eyebrows expectantly, her eyes questing for answers. She reached for his hand, lacing his fingers through hers and giving his palm a gentle squeeze, hoping to comfort him.

He shakily lifted his hand and pushed it through his bangs, as he always did when he was tired or nervous, and explained slowly, "I-I don't even know why I still hang around here, to be honest. I mean, it's been five whole days since it happened, I should just leave, but . . . " he gave a pained look around the room, "I don't know. I just don't really know what I oughta do next, I guess." He sighed, so heavily that it moved his thin shoulders up and down, and then looked at his wife, hoping beyond hope that she might at least one day be able to forgive him, if not right now. "What are they saying about me on the news?" He winced slightly. "Waaaaait - do I even wanna know?"

Norma bit her lip, looking hesitant for a few seconds. "Well," she answered after a few seconds, looking as though she were choosing her words quite carefully, "it's not too good, I'll be honest. Everyone's saying that this is all your fault." She squeezed his hand again, trying her best to reassure him, even though somewhere deep down she knew that it wouldn't do much good.

She'd thought right.

Instead of looking as though he felt any better, he looked sticken, his face reddening with shame and hurt. He didn't know what he had expected; of course they would say that it was all his fault. After all, even he couldn't argue that point of view. It was the truth, and for the first time, he was willing to accept his guilt for destroying an entire ecosystem, but for some reason it cut him to the core to think that a public that had once respected him so much had so quickly turned against him. That was the way things were in big business and fame, he supposed; everyone loves you until the next big thing comes along. He'd been a fool to think his success was permanent.

"Well, they're _right_," the Once-Ler admitted, the words sounding almost acidic as they slipped from his mouth. The heaviness of his heart weighed him down, and he looked guiltily at his feet, unable to meet her eyes. "It's the truth. It really _is_ all my fault." He dared to steal another glance up at her, mumbling, "Even _you _can't look me in the face and say that it isn't," before looking back down again, mortified.

Norma fell silent, confirming his fears. His heart plummeted to the pit of his stomach, and he swallowed hard, trying to chase away all the regret. Not even his wife could find anything good in him - not in this situation, at least. He could tell from the look in her eyes that she desperately wanted to comfort him and say something that would make him feel a little bit better, but she just couldn't find the right words. Oncie wasn't even sure if there _were_ right words in this particular situation. His heart twisted with a thousand feelings at once as she gently brushed her fingertips against his chin, lifting his face slightly to look to her. His eyes were wide and pleading as he studied her facial expression.

"Are they really all gone? All the trees, I mean," she asked, her voice low and even, her eyes bright with curiosity and a desperate need to be reassuring.

He knew from the sound of her voice that she didn't really want to ask him that question, that she knew it would only hurt, but she couldn't really avoid it. She was in the dark about the whole thing, he knew, and he was trying to be accomodating. Still, every time somebody asked him about the factory, he couldn't help but feel the pangs of the aftermath creeping up on him once again.

He looked off to the side, almost unable to force the words from his throat. He paused for a moment, considering, and then took another tentative step forward. "Norma," he said softly, almost on a gasping little exhale. He searched her gaze for any signs of forgiveness, his own eyes widening a little bit as all of what had happened hit him again, full-force, like a tidal wave. "Everything's gone, Norma. They all left. My family, the animals, Mustache . . . everything. There's nothing left. And it's all 'cause I . . . _I_ . . . " his voice trailed off, as he was unable to even finish the thought without experiencing that same emotional and even a little physical pain.

As he grappled with his words, Norma nodded with understanding. There was nothing judgemental at all in her voice or on her face, but he couldn't help but feel his face turn dark crimson, nonetheless. Gently reaching out and turning his face so that he was looking her properly in the eyes, she sighed and pursed her lips, carefully reading his expression. Oncie wished that he could just take all of this hurt away from her, away from both of them. If only he hadn't been so blind - he could have saved both of them all of this.

"Once-Ler," she said at last, breaking the awful, heavy silence between the two of them. She pulled back from his face slightly, holding out her arms and adding softly, "Come here."

He paused for a moment, unsure of what to do. Why should Norma have to comfort him when this was all his fault in the first place? Wasn't it unfair for him to have made such a terrible decision like this, and then just run back to his wife with his tail between his legs? He couldn't just snivel all over her like some wounded puppy, when all along he knew deep down that he didn't deserve any reassurance. He'd made his bed; now he just needed to lie in it. That was what any good, respectable person would do, wasn't it?

_Well_ . . .

Maybe just for once, the Once-Ler would allow himself to be a little pathetic. He already knew that he was, anyway; he was a completely impressionable pushover, a spineless and insecure young man who hadn't looked before he'd taken a very dangerous plunge. So how could he really sink any lower? It had been three weeks since he'd last seen his wife, for goodness' sakes. He _missed _her. It wasn't a crime for him to want to be near to his wife.

"Oh, God, Norma," he breathed, suddenly unable to control the shakiness in his shoulders and hands, even feeling a little weak-kneed.

Without another word, he all but collapsed into her arms, suddenly feeling very small indeed, even though he was several inches taller than his wife. He trembled and clutched onto her as tightly as his muscles would allow, his fingers twining in the fabric of her neatly-pressed blouse. The Once-Ler rested his head in the curve of her shoulder, nuzzling against the hollow of her collar, trying his best to keep himself stable and grounded. Norma clung to him tightly, as if her arms were the only thing keeping him tied together, whispering his name over and over again, like a prayer. Before he knew it, his eyes stung, and his throat was closing up, and it was all he could do to keep himself from crumbling altogether into a fit of sobs.

"There, there," she said, her voice gentle and soothing, as though she were comforting a child who'd been injured on the playground, rather than a grown man who had caused such devestation. It was easier right now to approach him in that manner, rather than her equal - it was less painful that way, for now. "Sssh, Once-Ler, don't worry. We'll figure something out. It'll be alright, you'll see. Everything is going to be just fine, I promise." Stroking her fingers through his thick, soft hair, she added in a low murmur, "You can cry if you need to. It's alright. No one's judging you here - it's just me."

As if on cue, the floodgates opened, and the Once-Ler held onto her even tighter, tears spilling at last from his eyes. They weren't quiet, either - these were loud, hiccuping sobs that shook his entire body, vibrations easily felt through his back and rib cage. He'd clearly been holding the tears back for a long time, and as Norma sat there, stroking his hair as calmly as possible, she was finding it difficult not to shed tears, herself. It was hard for her to have to be the stoic one, when all she wanted to do was cry with him - cry _for _him.

The Once-Ler's thoughts were so jumbled and messy that he really didn't know if he were crying about one specific issue, the grand scheme of things entirely, or something completely different, like stress and lack of sleep. All he knew was that he needed this, and once he had started, it was hard to stop. He had never cried in front of Norma before, even after so many years of knowing and loving each other - but even now, he was too upset to even think about whether or not it was awkward or embarrassing. He simply didn't care either way. It must have been about ten minutes before he was able to calm down even enough to speak again, and even then the words were still hard to force out of his knotted-up throat.

"I-I ruined _everything_, didn't I?" he choked, sniffling.

"You didn't ruin me," returned Norma calmly, still running her fingers gently through his hair, even though her hand was beginning to cramp up a little. "I still love you with all my heart." She paused, brushing a kiss against the top of his forehead, and then drew back a little to look him in the eyes, reaching out to brush the remaining tears away. "And there is hope for you," she added, hoping to encourage him, "even if we don't see it yet."

The Once-Ler sighed. He knew his wife was only trying to help, but her words didn't do very much to lift his spirits. Of course, he was thrilled that she was here to see him, even though he would never admit to it for fear of looking selfish or too self-piteous. And he really did appreciate that she was trying her best, even now, to keep supporting him and stay loyal by his side. But no matter what, every word that she said felt like another individual slap in the face, one right after the other. How could she still find it in her to say something so kind and compassionate to him, after all he had done? After he had hurt and lied to her on more than one occassion? That wasn't right. It just . . . _wasn't_.

"Y-you mean . . . " he swallowed hard, trying his best to calm down, unable to get his tense shoulders to relax. "I-I don't understand - why don't you - you don't think any less of me at all 'cause of what's happened?" he asked, eyes widening, still red and watery. His facial expression registered complete and utter shock.

Norma shook her head, clearing her throat and regarding him with a soft but serious look on her face. "It's not about thinking less of you," she explained, her voice low and level, "or not caring at all about what happened to the trees - because I _do_ care. I just care about keeping my promise to you more," she summed up, with that same bluntness that most people hated. "I'm not here to say I'm sorry, or to give you any pity, because I know you don't need that or want that. I'm here because you just need somebody with you to _love_ you. And I care about you so much. Don't you know how worried I've been for you this whole time? I was so scared I was _losing _you! You were acting like - it just wasn't you."

She held out her arms for him again, but this time he drew back a little, wiping hastily at his eyes, even though the tears just wouldn't stop coming. His eyes stung, and his head was pounding. He felt like he had exhausted himself from sobbing so much, but no matter how hard he tried, the tears spilled freely anyway, though much more quietly now. His lower lip trembled a little and he took great gasping, shuddering breaths, the sound a little ragged and heavy. He looked Norma straight in the eyes and shook his head jerkily, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

"I don't . . . I - " he brought his hand to his face and sighed again, looking weighted down with shame as more tears dissolved into his palm, soaking the fabric of his green glove. He allowed himself a short, heavy, monosyllabic sob before collecting himself as best as he could, lifting his hand from his face and muttering, "Wh-what if I really deserve to be alone?"

Kissing him very lightly on the lips, Norma said in as soft, gentle voice as she could manage, "You don't want that, though. And if you ask me, you don't deserve it, either. You're much better than all of this hurt and devestation. I wish I could just make all this go away."

Stubborn as ever, the Once-Ler shook his head, stepping back a little farther. "I'm a monster," he insisted, his voice flat and empty of emotion.

"You're _not_! Don't say that!"

Unable to help himself, he snarled a little, though the action was more defensive than offensive. He was still completely torn between accepting her comfort or pushing her away; he hadn't been able to help himself with the crying, but he knew better than to throw himself upon her after all he'd done. He couldn't expect anything else from her. That would be completely unfair.

"Yes, I am, Norma!" he responded, his voice breaking. "The rest of the world thinks so, too, so I don't see why you can't just go ahead and agree with them. Y-you might as well just go," he added weakly, even though on the inside, all he wanted her to do was stay. "The smog out here's too dangerous for anyone but me - get out of here."

But even he could hear in his voice how unconvincing he sounded. There was nothing he wanted more than for her to stay with him - he just couldn't figure out any other way to protect her from all that he'd done wrong. He knew that if he immediately gave in and begged for her to stay, then she definitely would be constantly by his side. The environment was simply too dangerous for that, no matter how much he wanted it. The only reason he could live in it and survive was because he'd been exposed to it much more than she had - though he was sure the smog would have its negative effects on his health down the line, anyway. If Norma stayed here with him all the time, she'd be dead within months, maybe a year if they were lucky.

"Well, maybe the rest of the world hasn't seen real monsters," Norma replied, so softly that he could barely hear her over the pounding drumbeat of his own pulse thundering in his ears. He gazed down at his own feet, but he could feel Norma's hand brushing against his cheekbone lightly, soothingly. Slowly, he looked up, and she met his desperate gaze with her calming presence, making him shiver a little. "The way I see it . . . yes. You made a bad decision. I won't deny that. But you're not a bad person, Once-Ler. You were wrong, but you're not evil." She reached out with her free hand and clasped his, giving his fingers a tight, quick squeeze. "And I'm not going to leave you. Smog or no smog."

His eyes widened fearfully, though he couldn't hide the gratitude and even relief in his eyes, as well. "But - what will - if you're not careful - "

"I know I can't stay here with you at _all _times," Norma pressed on, nodding in agreement, moving both her hands to rest gently upon his bony shoulders now. "I mean, I'm of no use to you if I'm dead. So there's no need to try and stay here when it would hurt me. But I'll come as often as I can. Whenever you need me, for anything at all. And I _will_ call you, every day. I know it's not as good as being together all the time, but . . . it's better than nothing, right?"

The Once-Ler nodded his head mutely; he supposed that he could agree with those terms. Though, he had to admit, as dangerous as it was, he still longed for his wife to be able to be with him all the time. Though he knew that in these conditions, it could never happen, it didn't hurt to dream, he guessed. He glanced at Norma and tried his best to smile, though he was sure that the gesture was lost on her, given his state of complete emotional disarray. He doubted very seriously that any attempts at displaying happiness right now would be very successful at all.

"If it weren't for what I did," he said, his voice low and craggly as he recovered from his crying earlier, finally starting to return to a more stable state of mind, "then you wouldn't have to worry about any of this. We could just be together, and none of this would've happened. Norma, I'm so sorry. I-I know there's no other way, but if there was, you know I'd do anything . . . "

For a while, she said nothing. The Once-Ler looked up at her a little anxiously, biting his lower lip, wondering what she would have to say to him next. He knew that 'I'm sorry' could be such empty words sometimes, but he really didn't know what else he ought to say to her. He truly _was_ sorry, for everything. He wished that he could take all of it back, even though all of his wanting and hoping for something better was in vain. Too little, too late. Still, he hoped Norma would understand. Their differences had never mattered before. Surely she would understand him, even now, after all this. Surely that much hadn't been destroyed by his factory, too.

"Right . . . there really _is _no other way," she muttered softly, almost to herself. "Unless . . . " she began again, looking thoughtful and pensive, staring off into the distance, in her own little world. He could practically see the gears in her head turning. Finally, she turned back to him, her eyes alight, the liveliest he'd seen them in a while. "Unless you . . . you come back to Thneedville with me!"

Once-Ler was so shocked with this suggestion that for a few seconds, he couldn't make his mouth form the words. "Wh-what?" he finally stuttered, looking a little punch-drunk. "Come back? I - Norma, I can't - what d'you mean?"

"Come back with me," she repeated, clutching both of his hands tightly, her eyes wide and insistant. "Once-Ler, you can't stay locked up here in this factory. How long have you even been living in here, anyway? Haven't you gone home at all since the last Truffula tree . . . f-fell?" She forced the word from her mouth, and he flinched a little, shaking his head no. Norma sighed, trying to be patient. "Okay, now I'm certain. You definitely need to come to Thneedville with me. We'll look for a house together - even just a tiny apartment is better than nothing. Until we find one, we can just . . . stay with my parents. But you need to be away from here, from all this hurt."

Now it was the Once-Ler's turn to sigh. He wiped at his red eyes, even though they were beginning to dry again now. "But Norma - "

"But nothing!" she cried, only taking her hand away from his for a moment to push her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. "There's no reason why you can't come live with me. I-I know you've been badly hurt, and . . . and you've hurt people, too, but maybe if you go back, then we can start trying to find a way to fix everything. Because I truly think that all this _can_ be fixed, Once-Ler."

Despite himself, he gave her a rueful little smile - or tried too, at least. It was still too painful for him to display any real, genuine signs of happiness, in his current state. He had to admit, she did make some very valid points. And the gentle sincerity in her voice was always hard to say no to - she knew what a total pushover he was, and utilized it to the fullest extent. He wanted so badly to just be able to trust in every word, and to go along with her without a care in the world. Maybe she was right; maybe they could find a solution to all of this in Thneedville. Maybe there was someone there who would be willing to stick out their neck and help them along - this wasn't something they could exactly fix on their own, after all.

On the other hand, maybe that plan could backfire on them completely. After all, from the sound of it, his reputation wasn't exactly wonderful in Thneedville at the moment. Norma had said earlier that the entire town was blaming him for the pollution and ruination of the environment - rightfully so, too. What if they resented him when they went back, and nobody wanted to give them the time of day? They'd probably think that any efforts the Once-Ler made to set things right with the ecosystem would just be hypocritical preaching, nothing more. Or worse, they could drive him out of town entirely. Would this issue be worth the risk?

"How can I go back there?" the Once-Ler asked her, his eyes wide and pleading for her to understand his side of things, as well. "I destroyed everything. Some of these people _worked _for me - there's families that have lost people because they got sick and died from the smoke just trying to make thneeds in the factory. I-I couldn't face any of them."

Norma's facial expression changed a little, as though it were slowly dawning on her for the first time. He couldn't blame her for not having thought about it already; she'd only just heard that the trees were all gone, anyway, so he couldn't imagine she'd have had the time to consider every little detail. Her eyes softened a little, and she reached out to gently stroke his cheekbone, then his hair. So much affection, even though he'd singlehandedly managed to bring down an entire ecosystem just because he craved attention and was validated by other peoples' opinions of him rather than his own self-image.

He was sure that she would have plenty of time to be angry with him later for all that he'd done, but for now, she seemed as though she wanted to bring him at least a little comfort. He knew she'd be angry; he was ready for it, and he could respect that. He couldn't imagine that she wouldn't be - and she'd basically admitted already that she was disappointed in him for what he'd done. So he tried his best to enjoy her warmth and reassurance for as long as he could, before she slipped back into that same old indifference that she always used when she was angry with him.

"Well . . . " she said, weighing all their possible options for a moment, her eyes searching his. "How about this. We can try to go back, just for maybe a day or so . . . a-and if it works out that they really can't have you in their town, or you don't want to stay . . . if it's really all that bad, then you can come back here. But I want to at least try. Please - don't ask me to be away from my husband without at least taking even the slightest chance of being able to be together."

She met his gaze, and even without words, she was silently pleading with him. Now, how could he possibly say no to something like that? He'd never seen her quite like this before; even when the trouble with his factory had still been going on, and he hadn't listened to her, she'd asked him in a calm, level way to stop what he was doing. There was nothing calm about her right now; even if her voice was soft and her gestures were comforting, reassuring, Once-Ler knew that she probably needed almost as much comfort as he did right now.

Truth be told, he didn't want to be away from his wife, either. If there was even a very slim chance at all that they might still be able to live together and love each other without the smoke endangering either of them, then he wanted to take it. Norma meant so much more to him than his own pride, or any issues he might have with going back to Thneedville. Yes, it would take some adjusting; but if it meant that he could have any hope of a normal life with Norma, a chance to start over and fix everything he'd done wrong, then he wanted that. He wanted it so much. Maybe this would be just the start that he needed to get the ball rolling in the right direction - towards recovery and rebuilding. Redemption.

Taking a deep breath to center himself and steady his whirling, racing thoughts, he nodded shortly once, then twice. He blinked, as if he were clearing some cobwebs from his vision, and then nodded again, both for effect and to buy himself more time as he tried to gather his words. He couldn't believe what he was about to agree to, but he had always been completely, irrationally optimistic, right? Even though he felt that that part of him had died along with the last Truffula tree, maybe it would be good to think more positively about the situation. (Even if a large part of him did suspect that the idea wouldn't end well at all.)

"Okay," he said at last, his voice very faint and shaky at first. "Okay," he said again, more firmly, to cement the idea. "I'll go with you - I'll go back. I mean, I'll try, at least. I wanna take any chance I can if that means that we can be together. You mean everything to me."

Taking his still-damp face in her hands, she leaned in and kissed him on the lips, then said softly, "I love you. And I want you to know that that will never change, no matter what you do or who you become. I'm staying with you. Even though I'm a little upset right now, that doesn't mean I don't love you - please don't ever think you're not the most important thing in the world to me, because you _are_, Once-Ler."

There was a long pause, then the Once-Ler spoke up, a little trembly. "You've been here a long time already - what if you're already risking it? Y-you should go, Norma. I don't want you getting sick from all this smog."

He could tell from the regretful look on her face that she knew it was true, but she didn't want to leave any more than he wanted her to. He wished she could just stay, but he knew it just wasn't healthy. Even if they were in a building, it wasn't enough to keep all the smog at bay. The smoke might not be able to reach them inside the building, but all the air was tainted with all sorts of chemicals from the factory fumes, anyway. If the smog didn't strangle her, then the other fumage would.

At once, she drew him in for a tight embrace, her arms almost shaking she was holding him so tight. The Once-Ler could barely breathe, she was holding onto him so firmly, but he didn't even care. His labored breaths hit her ear, warm and shallow, and he clung to her just as tightly in return, as though both of them were afraid that the wind might carry their spouse away from their arms.

"I'll come back for you," she promised him, her voice filled with tremendous conviction. "Every day. I'll visit. And then next week, after you've had enough time to pack and . . . and say goodbye to this place for good, then we can go back there. Alright?" She kissed his cheek, anchoring herself to him even more tightly than before. "I love you. I love you."

Even though they both knew she should leave, the two of them spent twenty more minutes hugging like that, just whispering each other's names, making promises back and forth, reassuring one another, saying they loved each other. The Once-Ler enjoyed every moment of it for as long as he could, knowing that soon, after all the comforting was over, it would really sink in what had happened, and Norma would have a chance to truly be upset. He would be ready for whenever that was; but for the time being, he had this moment.

He had to enjoy it for all he could, because next week, he was certain, was when everything would change - either for better or for worse.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six: Back To Thneedville

In the days following the fall of Thneed Incorporated and the elimination of the Truffula trees, it had been all too easy for Aloysius O'Hare to get things back under control. _His_ control. It had been almost child's play. The general public was left without a person to revere, and he had seen to it that he was next in line for the position. Like leading sheeps to the slaughter.

It wasn't as though he didn't deserve the recognition, anyway - he had worked hard to earn it. After all, hadn't he been working just as hard as the oh-so-important Once-Ler all his life to get noticed, as well? Why shouldn't he be the next person that everyone loved and respected? Obviously, he knew a good deal more about business than the Once-Ler did; he had always known that the young man's company had had several fatal flaws, but only now that he had decided not to worship the man so blindly did he really see Thneed Inc. for what it was; a failure. So, who would be better than Aloysius, a man who really knew how businesses operated, to fill the Once-Ler's shoes?

If he were being completely honest with himself, O'Hare wasn't even entirely sure _why_ he had admired the Once-Ler all these years. It was obvious now that the last tree had fallen that the man was an idiot, an impulsive fool. Aloysius could never in a million years see himself making the same mistakes - he was far too intelligent, too cunning, for that. What in the world was the point of looking up to someone that he ought to be looking down on, instead?

He supposed that he had seen the Once-Ler as a role model because, when he thought about it, they shared a common background. O'Hare, too, had come from a very poor family, and had grown up longing to change things and make a difference. He'd always been an inventive young fellow - just in a different sort of way than the Once-Ler was. The CEO of Thneed Inc. was creative, with lots of ideas always floating about in his mind; O'Hare, on the other hand, was business-savvy. He was better at manipulating a crowd, his business actions more based upon what the general public wanted. That was what Thneedville needed - a leader, not some self-entitled, pampered, spoiled brat.

Aloysius' mind had been changed quite dramatically about the Once-Ler the night of the dinner where he had first met the man in person. It had been the Annual Business Seminar and gala, and he had hoped all night that he might get a chance just to talk to the man. He had been working as a janitor there then, and had been overjoyed to discover that the Once-Ler himself had dropped a glass of water, and needed _his _cleanup assistance. He'd been so hopeful that the man, coming from a background where he had to struggle to get noticed too, would pay attention to some of his ideas.

What had the Once-Ler done? He'd brushed O'Hare right off his shoulder, like he was some kind of disgusting bug that he couldn't even be bothered with squashing. All he'd wanted to do was to share some ideas with a fellow businessman, but he hadn't even given Aloysius the time of day. He supposed that a teensy little janitor like himself, with huge glasses, braces, a lisp, and skin problems wasn't really worth the Once-Ler's attention.

Well, look at who had the last laugh now.

Thneedville was _his _now. Wasn't that ironic? A whole city, named just for the Once-Ler's silly, dime-a-dozen invention, and Aloysius owned and controlled all of it now. He was profiting off the Once-Ler's foolish mistakes; it was a good thing that he had smogged up the air so badly with his factory, or else Aloysius probably wouldn't have found his way into a position of power so quickly. And now, the cowardly young man was off hiding somewhere - rumors said he still lurked around in his empty factory building, talking to himself all day - and being ignored and shunned by the world once more. And where was O'Hare? Up at the very top. The tables had certainly turned there.

The process had been easy, by his standards. Over and over again, over the past years that he'd been working as part of the janitorial staff at Thneed Incorporated, he'd heard various workers and other people complaining about the contaminated air and the glupped-up rivers. He hadn't originally intended on using all this information against the Once-Ler, but after being so rudely shoved to the side and ignored by him at the business seminar all that time ago, there was no way he felt that he owed the man any respect any longer. So, when the opportunity had presented itself, he'd immediately rallied together the Thneedville citizens and promised them a way to get clean air once again.

Of course, they'd all been too eager to comply. After all, the thneed might be a Fine-Something-That-All-People-Need, but the one thing it _couldn't _be was fresh, life-sustaining air. Humans _need_ to breathe - they don't need silly little sweaters that can be twisted into a swimsuit or a hat or whatever else they'd claimed it could do. With Thneed Incorporated shut down and unable to defend itself through the media, it had been all too easy to turn the residents of Thneedville against the Once-Ler. And once they had switched their line of thinking, O'Hare had figured out that they were willing to do anything to create a new fad, to recover from the embarrassment and devestation that the thneed had caused them all.

So, to them it didn't seem all that unreasonable at all to start paying for air.

After all, it was something that they all needed, right? And sometimes, you had to pay to get what you needed. Especially if the quantity was scarce. And seeing as there wasn't a single Truffula tree in sight in the entire valley, paying a few dollars for something required by everyone didn't seem too far-fetched. Even in only a week or two, all of the citizens of Thneedville seemed to adjust rather well to living life through cans and plastic bottles of air. They accepted it just as easily and readily as they had the thneed, because they viewed it as a necessity. They didn't want to simply pack up their things and move away - Thneedville was home to many loyal families who wanted to stay, despite the environment's ruination. So, instead, they were willing to jump through however many hoops it took to get to keep their homes for as long as possible, and live where they pleased.

With all the money that he was making from his new company just getting started - O'Hare Air - Aloysius was able to go through a bit of a transformation, himself. He'd since ditched the plain gray jumpsuit that all the Thneed Inc. janitorial staff had been required to wear. What kind of self-respecting businessman would keep such dingy attire, when he had his own company to tend to? Instead, he'd gone out and bought himself some neatly-pressed, immaculate suits, tailor-made to accomodate his shortness and his stout frame. He'd thrown away his glasses and had switched promptly to contact lenses, trying his best to conform to what looked more professional and less like a wannabee upstart. His acne problems were still plaguing him a little, but he chalked that up to being young, and figured they, too, would fade away with time.

And the best part was, when the citizens had all gathered together and appointed him a sort of mayor of Thneedville, a person to be their beacon and guide them through the harshness of the environment, he hadn't even needed to change the blueprints for the town's renovations. He'd managed to get his hands on the same blueprints the Once-Ler had been using when Thneed Incorporated was still in operation, and was continuing the expansion of the town himself. Of course, there would need to be a teensy bit of tweaking; there were a few places where good old Mr. Onceler had planned on advertising his invention, the thneed, but they were irrelevant now. O'Hare had planned to replace those with O'Hare Air ads, instead.

There was even a building right in the middle of town, where the Once-Ler had planned on using it as a mayor's office - for himself, of course, at the time. But now it would belong to none other than Aloysius O'Hare, himself, though he doubted he would actually use it as an office. He would likely use it as more of an apartment building than anything else - he had a better idea on how to keep his watchful eye on all of Thneedville. He'd drawn up the blueprints himself, back in the days when he had still looked up to the Once-Ler, and had wanted to help the man along with the expansion projects. They were the ideas that the Once-Ler had so rudely brushed away that night at the business seminar, when Aloysius had offered to present them to him; a giant blimp, in which one could see cameras strategically placed over the entire town, and a long, futuristic-looking, slim automobile, to ride around and get a view of the town on your own.

Well, his loss. They were O'Hare's inventions, after all, and O'Hare planned on using them for his own purposes now. After all, what was the point of being the brand-new mayor if one couldn't enjoy the control that came with it?

Along with all these perks that came with owning a whole town, Aloysius had also hired two bodyguards. Strong, muscular, stocky men named Mooney and McGurk, who had once worked at Thneed Incorporated, as well. He'd seen their physical strength be put to use on more than one occassion, when they were lifting Truffula trees onto the conveyor belts in the factory with their bare hands. They would be a good source of protection if anyone ever got jealous or tried to take his power away from him. Aloysius O'Hare wasn't much of a threatening brute physically, but emotional manipulation only got one so far. He needed bodyguards there, just in case he ever was really threatened. (He'd never admit to it, but he really was a bit of a coward sometimes.)

At the moment, the same bodyguards were escorting him up the long, winding staircase of the town hall, to the office that he would call home - hopefully for a very long time. He'd spent weeks renovating the place so that it would be just to his liking, including putting a tiny work station in there, just temporarily, until the blimp could be constructed. The building itself was a tall white cylinder, with a winding spiral staircase on the inside, and several large, glass windows that reached from floor to ceiling along the way. He had spared no expense. He hadn't wasted time in getting the place decorated, paintings of landscapes and of himself already adorning the walls. When you're going to be the new mayor of an entire city, you've got to do it in style.

He didn't really think that it was completely necessary for him to have bodyguards take him personally to his new "apartment" of sorts, but it simply looked more intimidating to anybody who happened to see him passing by. He' been made fun of for his height much of his life, after all, and was quite sick of people underestimating him because he wasn't tall, lean eye-candy like the Once-Ler. It helped his public-image. And his self-image, really, now that he thought about it - but he didn't allow himself to think about _that_ too often. It was much easier to make people believe you were a threat to them if you created illusions to help along the mental process a bit.

He had to admit, he'd been carrying that trick with him for a long while. Ever since elementary school, really, and he was twenty years old now, scarely out of school, himself. When the children had picked on him on the playground because he hadn't exactly been the tallest fellow for his age group, or the strongest, he hadn't been too upset. After all - he'd always known that he was the smartest. He'd used his own wit and cunning to outsmart them for as long as possible, but eventually, they had learned all those tricks. So, to make up for this loss of the upper hand, he'd befriended the older bullies from the middle school, and lured them into becoming his own personal little staff of bodyguards. He'd coasted through school quite easily ever since.

However, those memories hadn't left him without his own insecurities, even now. He had gotten quite accomplished at hiding it as he'd grown older, but he really was quite troubled by them still. He'd always known himself to be quite arrogant, and really wasn't shy about hiding it. After all, to succeed in business, one needs to be confident and self-assured or else risk getting eaten by the big dogs, so to speak. But behind all that confidence and tough as armor exterior, there were still the memories of his childhood needling at him; he'd been laughed at and ridiculed for much of his childhood and even adult life for wearing such large glasses, his height, and his skin problems - not to mention his bad haircut. So, even though he did a very good job of keeping his teensy insecurities a tightly-sealed secret, they still nagged at him from time to time.

Oh well. All the people that had made fun of him in the past would be working for him soon enough, anyway. He would find a way to make that possible. Besides, the best sort of revenge is becoming hugely successful after everyone else kicked dirt in your face and doubted you throughout your whole life.

As long as nothing ever came along to threaten his newfound success, he would be fine, and would hold his position of power for a long time to come. After all, one of the Once-Ler's many business flaws was that he had been so easily swayed by outside parties, or even his own family. O'Hare simply wouldn't have stood for that, had he been in the green-suited businessman's position. He only cared about his own plans, and what he wanted for the city of Thneedville. Nobody else, not even his own mother, could change that. If anything ever threatened his decision-making or his business, then he would eliminate it in a second. No questions asked. No remorse. He couldn't afford to take precautions with so much on the line already.

Once upon a time, he might have let himself get pushed around, but not any longer. Aloysius O'Hare was no longer the same tiny, meek little janitor without a friend in the world. Who needed friends when he had all this promise of power and control ahead of him?

Aloysius pulled himself from his pensive thoughts as they reached the top of the staircase at last. His two bodyguards, despite their muscular builds and their strength, were huffing and puffing at his sides - though he couldn't really blame them, since he'd gotten tired halfway up and had asked them to carry him the rest of the way. Still - he wasn't _that_ heavy. That was no excuse for how winded they were already. O'Hare made a mental note to remind himself later to get them both started on a regular exercise regimen.

Moving to the office door, one bodyguard stood on each side of the doorway, the one on the left (Mooney, O'Hare thought, but he couldn't tell the difference between them since they looked so much alike) holding the door open for his boss. Aloysius couldn't help but give a greedy little grin, his eyes sparkling. He rubbed his hands together and headed towards the doorway, hardly able to wait to enjoy the perks of all his money and success. It had been a long day of work, and now he was ready to relax in his new little house and look down on the world that had once looked down on him.

"Here you are, Mr. O'Hare," said the bodyguard holding the door open for him (he could swear that one was Mooney), adjusting his tiny sunglasses with his free hand. "Your office - er, apartment, rather." He gave O'Hare a tiny, slightly awkward little smile, but quickly returned to his same stoic expression as always.

Aloysius nodded curtly, and without another word, waddled inside the little room. It wasn't a very visually impressive little loft, but it would do until he got around to the construction of the blimp. The walls were a plain, eggshell-white, and the furniture was minimum. A couch, a single bed, a television, and of course kitchen appliances and the like pushed up against the fr right wall, almost haphazardly. At least even though there wasn't a lot in the room, it had been spruced up a bit, to give the place a "modern" feel. The windows in the room were his favorite part; they were tall, and added a little space to the room - not to mention, they allowed him to look out at his town whenever he wanted to, just to check up on things and make sure everyone was following his rules.

More specifically, making sure that none of the environmentalists that had protested Thneed Incorporated were showing up in his city, trying to replant the trees again. Ugh. As if it hadn't been difficult enough to wait for those things to be gone in the first place. He was making a living now, selling fresh air to these suckers who didn't just have the presence of mind to move away or just live their lives in the smog otherwise. So, he didn't have the time to deal with people who wanted to take away the job he'd worked hard to get his hands on. Threats to his business weren't to be taken lightly.

No matter who - or _what_ - the threats came from.

He was willing to go to extremes for the sake of keeping Thneedville within his grasp. After all, hadn't he worked hard enough to deserve to keep it as his own to control? So what if monitoring the town through cameras at all times of the day was a little much? He really couldn't afford to lose all that he had gained, and so quickly, too. He hadn't yet encountered a tree-hugger or someone else who had presented a harm to O'Hare Air, and so he wasn't quite sure what he would do if he ever did find one. "Whatever it took" was the obvious answer - but then, what exactly did that specifically entail?

He supposed he'd figure it out when the time came. Though . . . he had to admit, he didn't truly believe himself incapable of much of anything anymore. Now that he had all this money and power at his disposal, he really was close to indestructible, as far as business went. Maybe not exactly at this moment in time, but if he gave himself a couple months, then he would definitely have enough sway to get the whole city on his side. Hopefully, people threatening O'Hare Air's success wasn't a problem that he would have to deal with for a long time.

Hopefully, he could keep trees out of the picture - for good this time.

* * *

As the Once-Ler glanced around the shadows of his abandoned, empty factory, he sighed, his breath stirring the dust mites in the air. It had only taken a week for the place to start looking like a haunted house. The city of Thneedville's power company had already cut off the building's water and electricity, so he'd been spending last handful of days in complete darkness, living off water that he'd stored up for this exact purpose. He'd expected it to happen soon, after all. He had a few candles that he kept lit, along with a battery-powered lamp in his "bedroom" (his old office, but now with the addition of a tiny cot and blankets to sleep on), but that dim lighting hardly did any good. He'd boarded up his windows, too; he hadn't been able to bear the sight of all the destruction that he'd caused, always staring him in the face. Perhaps it was cowardly of him, but it did help a little.

Unfortunately, nothing could keep the nightmares away. Ever since the fall of his factory, he'd had terrible, vivid dreams almost every night of trees falling down and animals coughing and dying before his eyes; Swammee Swans with their feathers burned off, and skinny bar-ba-loots collapsing with fatigue to the ground; hummingfish with raw, infected-looking scales and inflamed gills; and worst of all, he was always there in the dreams, as well, standing on the balcony just outside his office - and laughing. A horrible, cold laugh that sent chills up his spine just thinking about it. And when he was startled awake by the harsh, disturbing images in the middle of the night, screaming and gasping, sitting upright in a cold sweat for hours in bed, there was nothing there to comfort him. Nothing but the stark reality of every wrong decision he'd ever made staring him down.

There was nothing left for him here. As long as he stayed here, then he was living in the past. There was little point in staying behind in the ruins of everything that he had ever wanted, but failed to achieve. It only served as a reminder that for just a few thrilling, reeling seconds, he'd held the entire world in the palm of his hands, before it had all come crashing down. Destroyed. Why would he want to live here, among everything that he had only held dear and now despised? He hated the sight of every wall, every ornate piece of furniture. The portraits hanging on the walls especially - they had been one of the first things he'd thrown out. (The next had been those tacky, cheap blue sunglasses; he'd snapped them cleanly in two and tossed them into the corner of the room, to be forgotten in the shadows.)

He was so alone here.

And yet, in a way, that was what made it even harder to leave.

Regardless of anything that Norma had told him, the Once-Ler couldn't help but feel as though he deserved this. He'd ruined so many lives. Just because he was lucky that his wife was forgiving of his transgressions didn't mean that he had to feel the same. Moving away from the old factory - which he had begun calling the Lerkim lately, just to give it a different name than Thneed Incorporated - might make it easier to forgive himself. And the Once-Ler wasn't sure if he ever wanted that to happen. How _could_ he forgive himself? How _could _he forget? This wasn't just a temporary problem that he had caused; it would affect the lives of everyone in Thneedville, and not just them, but their children, and the generations to come, as well. This was one mistake that couldn't be reversed.

Maybe he didn't deserve a new life in Thneedville, after all. He couldn't go back there in good conscience, just thinking they would automatically welcome him back with open arms and smiles and forgiveness. Norma was the exception, because she loved him and he loved her, and she had always been the sort that was willing to push the past behind to move towards the future. But not everybody could be like that. Even if he managed to live a quiet life in town, then how would the weight in his heart lift at all? It would be worse if he was right there, living amongst them all when he couldn't stop feeling as though he ought to be punished. The guilt would never leave him, not completely - no matter where he was.

The Once-Ler glanced down at the cardboard box that he was holding in his arms, so heavy that his fingers were turning stark-white as he tried to keep it lifted. He'd packed up as much as he could take in one box, having wanted to travel back to Thneedville light, since they'd be walking - and it was a long distance from the Lerkim into town. His whole new life, all in one box. He furrowed his brow contemplatively, his arms shaking, and he sighed again. Giving a stubborn, jerky little shake of his head, he moved and set the box down on his old desk, huffing with the physical effort. He stifled a harsh, dry cough caused by the dust stirred in the air, then straightened up again, adjusting his tie.

"I-I can't," he muttered to himself. "I can't do it. I gotta call her."

He'd always had a habit of talking to himself; he did it whenever he was thinking hard about something. When he was so deep in concentration, he hardly noticed when he'd mumble a few sentences to himself, tapping a pencil against his chin or some other such fidgeting. Lately, though, it was a habit that had gotten a little more prolific; he had nobody else to talk to, after all. And he _did _stay very deep in thought these days, anyway. Sometimes it just was easier to voice his ideas aloud, in order to make sense of the jumbling thoughts buzzing around in his mind at all hours of the day. No human being could possibly keep all their thoughts quiet every single day of their life, without a word to anyone else.

The Once-Ler fumbled for the telephone on his office desk, squinting in the dim, orange glow of the candlelight in the room so that he could properly see the numbers to dial. Thankfully, the modem for the phone lines hadn't been shut down yet - but Oncie wasn't exactly sure how long _that_ would last. Any day now, the phone company was sure to disconnect the line when they got wind that the factory was no longer in use. He swallowed hard, trying not to think about that; it was scary to think that slowly but surely, all his contact out here with the outside world was being cut off from him. Instead, he lifted the phone to his ear, balancing it in the crook of his shoulder as he dialed the correct number.

And waited.

The ringing seemed to take forever, a dull, monotonous sound, like bees flying in the space between his ears. He drummed his fingers restlessly against the desk, hardly able to contain the emotions building up in his chest. Nervousness, fear, anxiousness, and yet at the same time he couldn't help but feel a little bit _eager_, as well.

Talking to Norma would help him feel better - it always did. She always seemed to know exactly what to do or say to calm him down, and he was sure that today of all days would be no exception. She knew how he felt about having to leave the Lerkim and re-enter Thneedville again; she'd been comforting him and talking to him about it every day since the idea had first been suggested, and though she didn't seem ready to back down on it anytime soon, certainly was understanding of how he felt. He didn't know why that surprised him, though - she always _had_ been the only person in the whole world that really could make sense of and even relate to what he was thinking. And he needed that sort of affection and comfort from her now even more than ever.

Finally, the phone clicked, and there was a rustling sound for just a moment. Then, Norma's voice, soft and kind, and a little expectant: "Hello? This is Norma."

He paused for a moment, then realized that he hadn't even stopped to consider what exactly he would _say_ to her. He knew what was going on in his mind, what he was feeling, but it was exceedingly difficult to voice the emotions themselves. Blinking, he cleared his throat, straightening his posture as though it would help steel himself emotionally. After all, breaking down over one little phone conversation with his wife, of all people, just wouldn't do.

"Uh . . . hey," he finally greeted, his voice sounding a little faint despite himself. He swallowed hard, then started again, almost cringing at how awkward he sounded. "Hey, Norma, it's me. I . . . " he paused, then sighed, sinking into the high-backed velvet chair as he pressed on, "look, I wanted to talk to you. About this whole Thneedville thing. You're not busy, are you?"

"Oh, no," came her immediate response. She sounded almost a little surprised, as if they didn't talk on the phone every day, even if they didn't see each other in person very often anymore. "No, I'm not busy. The library's closed today - it's Sunday." (In the time that they had been apart, she'd finally managed to find a part-time job - ironically - as a librarian at her favorite place in the world. The pay was meager, but at least one of them was earning something.) "What's wrong?" she asked, immediately interested and ready to listen.

He spun the telephone chord absently around his slim index finger. "Aaahh, well, it's just . . . " he shrugged, "I don't know, I . . . " his voice trailed off.

There was a beat of silence.

Then: "Once-Ler? Are you okay? Tell me the truth. We've been through this before. If you're lying or hiding how you really feel from me because you think you're protecting me, you're wrong. I'm your wife, and if you leave it up to my imagination, then of course I'll imagine the worst." His heart gave a pang at the obvious worry in her tone of voice, but when he opened his mouth to speak, Norma was still talking. "Are you still a little worried?"

He sighed heavily, unsure of what he ought to say in response to that. It wasn't really that he was _trying _to hide his feelings from Norma - he had already seen what sort of things happened when he kept things hidden from her, and didn't want to go down _that_ road again. It was just that he didn't want Norma's feelings to be hurt by his reluctance to leave the Lerkim. However much she tried to hide it, he could see it on her face and in her voice whenever he said that he was a little nervous; she was hurt that he couldn't look past his own pride long enough to leave the old thneed factory and come be her husband again. He knew it was a sensitive issue for her, and wouldn't want to make her feel at all like he was uncomfortable with the idea of living with her again.

Finally, he caved in and settled on just telling her the straight, outright truth. A rare occurence for him, since he normally hated being blunt - with Norma, at least. "I can't go through with it. I-I can't do it, Norma. I've been thinking about it all week, a-and I just finished packing up this morning and I know you were supposed to come over later so that we could get a move on and get out of here already, but - but . . . " he sighed again, hitting his forehead with the heel of his hand in frustration. "I don't know, it's complicated. C-can I just ask you something that might make all this a whole lot easier on me?"

"Of course," she replied, her voice as calm and even as always. He supposed she was so used to seeing him in such distress lately that remaining cool and collected for his sake was much easier these days. "You know you can tell me or ask me anything in the world. I am your _wife_, after all."

If he wasn't mistaken, he thought he caught just a little hint of the same playful flirtatiousness in her voice that they had used with each other back in the good old days. Back before all this _hurting_. It was enough to give his heart that little flutter of hope, just the right push he needed in the proper direction. Somehow, even when she did little things like that, without being aware of it, she helped him see exactly what it was that he needed to do next. It was one of the things that he had always loved the most about her.

Sometimes he almost believed that he didn't even deserve Norma. As much as he loved her, and as much as he knew she loved him back, he couldn't help but feel as though she needed so much better than what he could give her. He'd been on top of the world once, but he'd been reckless. Foolish. And he'd lost everything. Norma was so kind and compassionate, so warm, but still so fiercely protective and stubborn and all the other wonderful things that she was; and here she was with a selfish, egotistical husband who'd acted like a rockstar when he'd had no right to do so. He'd jeopardized not only her, but his friends, as well, and yet she was still so loyal to him, always. What had he ever done to deserve devotion like that?

He took a deep breath, all the air filling up his lungs and building him back up a little bit, second by second. At last, he pushed the words out of his mouth, though he couldn't help but sound a little defeated, weighted by regret, as he said, "What exactly is out there for me in Thneedville, Norma?"

She seemed a little thrown by his question. There was silence for a little while, only the buzzing of the phone line filling his ears for several long seconds. The quietness had persisted just long enough for the Once-Ler to begin to get worried that she had hung up on him or the connection had been lost, but then he heard her clear her throat. He hadn't known that the question would be that difficult for her. Normally, she was able to give him an answer right away, but this one, she really had to think about.

"Well . . . " she said at last, and he couldn't help but notice that she sounded a little on the hesitant side at first. "I think that all depends on what you're looking for. Whether or not you just want to start a new life entirely, or hope that they forgive you and just move on and rebuild as we go . . . that's what decides it, I think. You have to look at all the possibilities for _good _things ahead of you, Once," she urged, his heart twisting painfully at the desperation rising in her voice. "Don't you remember when you used to have to be the one to tell _me _to think positively, a-and look for the good things? You just need to keep optimistic, that's all."

"Yeah, but . . . " he sighed again, massaging his temples lightly with his thumb and forefinger. "Look at all of this - things are different now. I-I know I _used_ to think that way, but that was way before anything like this had ever happened. And now . . . " he paused, almost unable to face the very thought he was about to voice. "Wh-what if there _isn't _anything good _left_ to find anymore?"

"There _is_," she insisted, though her voice was still as patient as ever. "You just have to want to look for it." There was a short pause, and then Norma added softly, "I don't know about you, but I'm ready to start trying to fix things. We might not know exactly how yet, but if we go back, then we're bound to figure out something. Don't worry. I know how you're hurting already, Once-Ler . . . I wouldn't make you do this if I believed there was too big a chance of it not working out."

"R-right." He exhaled slowly, then let out a shaky, hollow little laugh, though the sound was without humor. He nodded his head, even though he knew that she couldn't see him on the other end of the phone. "Right, no, I-I get it. I know you wouldn't. It's just . . . aaah, I dunno, I think sometimes I just need to hear your voice. It makes more sense whenever I hear you explain it," he admitted sheepishly, feeling his face heat up with a slightly embarrassed blush.

Her words had managed to calm him down a little, at least, even if he still was a little bit confused about what exactly he'd be able to do with his life once he returned to Thneedville. He supposed it was something that they ought to just play by ear for the time being, really. Certain situations, like this one, weren't really the sort that could be planned out too thoroughly; and maybe, Once-Ler was starting to think, he didn't want it to be. Plans could change, after all - he knew that better now more than ever. Maybe it would be easier for both of them to just jump in and not worry so much about the future, considering that they had so much of the past to clean up, first.

"Hey," Norma said after a while, a surprising gentleness in her voice, an almost maternal sound. "You know something? This is about more than just the trees and fixing the environment. That's important, too, of course, but I hope you understand that the real reason I want you to move back to Thneedville with me is much closer to home than that. It's not truly for me, or for anybody else's sake, it's for you. I want you to be able to feel something other than just this guilt. Whether or not this _is _all your fault, nobody deserves to live like that."

He cleared his throat, gulping shallowly. "Th-thanks," he stammered, shame twisting inside his stomach like a butcher knife. "I really needed this," he sighed, scratching the top of his head. "I guess I was just feeling a little . . . nervous. I mean, I really don't have any idea what those people think of me down there. They might all hate me - they _must _hate me for everything I've done - ruining their lives like that - "

Norma cut him off abruptly; he knew she couldn't stand it when he started talking that way, but he just couldn't help himself these days. "Well, can I just ask who gives a hooey-pooey for what anybody in Thneedville thinks of you?" she scoffed, obviously ruffled, but calmed down after a few seconds. "Look, Once-Ler. You're not perfect. I know that, and I'm with you anyway. And you know that I'm not perfect, and you're still with me. All these people in Thneedville trusted you once. Maybe if you talk to them, you'll be able to change their minds. You never know." Even he could tell she was bluffing by this point, but he appreciated her effort, nonetheless.

He closed his eyes, allowing himself several long seconds to absorb what she'd just said to him. He could still feel his old familiar optimism, burning bright and striving to make itself known, in the farthest corners of his heart. No matter how much darkness and bleak surroundings there seemed to be these days, nothing could ever truly get rid of something that was truly such an integral part to his personality. His optimism had gotten him this far; it had been, in a sense, responsible for both his uprising and his downfall. It was so hard for him to reach into that one part of his heart and allow his positive thinking, his one redeeming feature, to save him, when it had led him into recklessness and all but destroyed him, as well.

The Once-Ler hadn't ever expected that letting go of his own guilt would be so difficult. He'd thought that it would be so freeing to finally set down all of that baggage that he'd been carrying with him ever since he'd first made the decision to chop down the trees. But now that the opportunity to move on and start working towards changing the future had presented itself, he couldn't help but feel intimidated, to say the least. It almost felt like he was using his wife's compassion to worm his way out of his own self-punishment, and that made him feel lower and guiltier than ever.

"I love you," he said, his voice a soft, low murmur, the tenderness in his tone almost achingly clear. "I love you so, so much. D'you know that?" He swallowed hard, opening his eyes and looking around at the cold, empty room, surpressing a shudder before speaking again. "Wh-when I used to tell you that you were against me, or you weren't supporting me enough, or that you didn't understand . . . I-I was wrong. I couldn't have been more wrong about you, Norma. I'm so sorry I ever said that to you."

There was no response from her for a few seconds - and the Once-Ler could easily understand why. She was still angry with him, he was certain. After that day about a week or so ago in his office, when he'd collapsed into tears in her arms and she'd calmly comforted him for hours on end, things had been decidedly different between the two of them. As he had suspected would happen, once the news of what had happened to the trees had really sunken in, Norma had promptly decided to hide behind a wall of indifference. Of course, she was always there for him whenever he needed her, and would never yell at him or berate him after all he'd been through; she knew already that he was guilty enough as it was, and didn't need his own wife adding to that. But still . . . she hadn't said "I love you" to him ever since that day, and even when he told her that he loved her, he was never gifted with a response.

Not that he could ever expect one, not after what he'd done. But still. Somehow, from his wife, it cut even deeper than anything else.

"I . . . I know you are, sweetheart," she finally replied, something almost akin to regret and melancholy in her voice. He could still feel the love and affection in her tone, even when she didn't say what he wanted so badly to hear, but it still didn't stop him from feeling distant from her, nonetheless. "And I . . . " she sounded so badly as though she wanted to say something else, but decided against it, instead stumbling over her words a little as she added, "l-look, I'll be over there in just a little while to meet you. And then we can walk into town together, okay? Expect me in, say . . . twenty minutes."

He sighed, his shoulders slumping a little. He didn't know what sort of response he had expected, but it had almost seemed, just for a few seconds there, like he'd actually won the forgiveness of his wife. He knew that it would take a while for him to actually gain her trust again, especially since for a long time, he had lied directly to her face about the expansions of his factory. But patience had never been a part of the Onceler family genes, especially so for him - so it was all a matter of him learning to cope with it, he supposed. After all, he definitely deserved this much from her - actually, in his opinion, he deserved far worse punishment than this - and was just grateful that she hadn't left him or kicked him to the curb by now.

"Alright," he replied, wincing at the wistfulness in his voice, wishing he could just man up a little about the whole thing. It was his fault, after all. "I'll see you then."

Without another word between them, the other end of the line clicked, and he knew that the call had been ended. He bit his lower lip against a frown, refusing to let himself believe that everything was completely over between them right now. They were just going through a rough patch - that was all. Every married couple went through those. He might have lost a lot of his optimism about the factory and even his own decency as a human being, but even though his confidence in himself was gone, his faith in his wife and their relationship was not. He would always believe in that much, no matter what else he lost. He wouldn't lose her. She could have left him so many times already by now if she had any intention of it. He was a lucky man that the thought _hadn't _crossed her mind, he thought, honestly.

He set the telephone down onto the receiver as lightly as possible, though the instrument still jingled and clackled noisily when he clumsily set it down. Once again, he was left with only the darkness of his big empty factory to keep him company. Stark reminders of his failure surrounded him on all four sides, closing him in, making him almost claustrophobic with their closeness. The air out here in the former Truffula Valley was thick, heavy, and muggy, making the stifling effect even worse.

Yet now, as he looked around at all the desolation, Norma's words rang in his ears, and he couldn't help but feel the tiniest beginnings of a sliver of hope tugging at his chest.

Maybe.

_Juuuust _maybe,

this could all be fixed.

* * *

The walk down to Thneedville through the desolated Truffula Valley was far worse than anything the Once-Ler had ever seen in his nightmares. He hadn't seen the valley up close and personal ever since the last tree had fallen, so he didn't really know _what_ to expect. This was worlds different than anything he could have imagined it would be like. He hadn't walked out in the valley much when his factory had still been in operation for this exact reason; he hadn't wanted to face all of this and risk ruining the illusion that everything was perfectly fine. Now, though, he no longer had a choice in the matter. After everything that had happened, it seemed fitting that he would finally be forced to just look at what his greediness had done.

The Valley was absolutely silent. All the other times that he'd been out there, walking around and taking inventory every once in a blue moon that he'd actually gotten the nerve to face it all, the sounds of the Super-Axe-Hackers and the grinding, rumbling noises of the factory conveyor belt had been there to create a melancholy sort of ambience. But not now. Now, there was just a chilling quietude spreading like a blanket across the entire valley, and it made him vaguely uncomfortable. His footsteps seemed unnaturally loud in the silence, every twig and rock crackling noisily beneath his feet. His pulse roared in his ears, and he gulped unevenly, hoping that Norma, who was walking at his side, couldn't hear how loudly his heart seemed to be beating.

Everything was gray. Grayer than he remembered. The sparse grass that covered the rolling hills only grew in tiny, bristly patches here and there; the rest was trampled over and weathered to the point where there was nothing but ashy-colored dirt in its place. There was a sour smell hanging heavily in the air, dust and factory debris all over the place. And of course, there were tree stumps. Tree stumps _everywhere_. In his state of shock, the Once-Ler, not paying attention to where he was walking, had nearly tripped over several already.

The air felt too thick; every time he tried to draw in a proper breath, his throat seemed to close up, his lungs feeling tight and constricted. The smog made everything feel so hot and uncomfortably dry, like being placed right in the middle of an oven turned to the highest possible temperature and left to bake. Combined with the itchy, heavy fabric of his green business suit, and he was already feeling overly warm. He could feel sweat starting to bead up at the nape of his neck. He loosened his tie to try and relieve the warmth a little bit, but it didn't do much good at all.

Norma caught the motion out of the corner of her eyes, and glanced up at him curiously. "How're you doing?" she asked him, a certain degree of wariness in her voice.

It wasn't a casual inquiry of his health; she knew how much it was hurting him to walk right through the middle of all this destruction, and was making sure that he could still handle the weight it put right on his heart. And for a moment or two, he wasn't quite sure how to answer her. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be okay again. He felt so conflicted, staring around at this giant wasteland, knowing that he should feel hopeful, glad that he was leaving it all behind. Instead, he could only feel crippling guilt and regret.

Rather than say this and risk worrying her, however, he gave her the tiniest of smiles and reached for her hand. His fingers lacing through hers, he gave her palm a gentle squeeze and murmured as reassuringly as possible, "I think I'll be fine. Don't you worry about me, okay? What's really important is that we get you outta here as fast as we can, before that smoke does something really bad to you."

"Don't be silly," Norma insisted, though he had to admit, she was looking a little paler already. She shook her head, with the perpetual stubbornness of every domesticated cat in the world combined. "It's only been a few hours, I'm fine. And besides, see how close we are? We'll be there any minute now." She raised her index finger, pointing to the looming THNEEDVILLE sign in the distance. Its lights flickered almost teasingly the closer that they drew to it. "Just tell me if you think you want to go back. I-I don't want to force you to do this if you're not ready."

The Once-Ler drew in a deep, heavy sigh, but the smog instantly cut it short. Instead of inhaling a deep, fulfilling breath of fresh air, he got a lungful of smoke, causing him to immediately start hacking. Norma, startled, gave a little jump and moved back a little, to allow him some room to breathe - or try to, at least. He doubled over, his shoulders shaking as the coughs racked through him; he hadn't been outside in so long, it was going to take a little while for him to get used to it. Even though he was surrounded by all the smog shut up in his factory all day, he very rarely got the full grunt of it like this. His eyes stung and watered, his nostrils filling up with the acrid smell of the smoke.

"Once-Ler!" she gasped, reaching forward and resting her tiny hand on his shoulder blade, shuddering a little as she felt the heat of his skin burning even through all his clothes. "Are you alright? I-I know the weather out here is dreadful . . . " her voice trailed off and she cringed, knowing inwardly what the reminder of his failure would do to him.

He nodded slowly, clearing his throat and straightening up from his half-hunched-over position. His eyes still swam a little, but he quickly blinked the excess dampness away, nodding his head swiftly in response to her. It was a while before he could find his voice; indeed, this cruel, stark reminder that he had caused all of this seemed to have enough force to take the very wind out of him. He brushed himself off, straightening his wrinkled jacket and shirt-front, not really knowing what else to say. How could he do any complaining when it was because of him all this had happened to begin with?

"Y-Yeah," he said, nodding again. He pushed his long, slim fingers through his bangs, sighing as his palms slid against the sweat starting up on his forehead. It really was far too hot out here, especially now that they had been traveling on foot for hours. "Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry. I guess this is all just a little, uh . . . a-a little more than I expected."

The Once-Ler couldn't help but grimace as he looked around at the vast, endlessly-gray valley stretching out all around him, his heart sinking with lonliness as he realized that he, on instinct, had been looking around to see where the barbaloots were. He hadn't really given himself a chance to think about the animals themselves ever since his factory had shut down; of course, he'd felt nothing but guilt and regret ever since the animals and the Lorax had gone away, but he'd never really wondered up until now what had happened to them. Where had they gone after leaving the valley? He hoped sincerely that all of the animals had been able to find a better place out there.

"We're almost there," she reassured him, reaching out and gently clasping her hand. "Don't worry. Look, it looks like the smog is clearing up a little bit the closer that we get into town. And you've got me right here with you." She paused for just a moment, almost as though she was hesitating for a beat, and then leaned across to kiss him on the cheek. "Once we get into Thneedville, it'll all be better, you'll see."

Norma's hand never left his on the entire way down the road into Thneedville. It was always there, every second, a comforting, calming pressure against the palm of his hand; something to serve as a reminder that not all was lost. Not yet. He still had just a little bit of hope to cling to, and it was standing there, walking right alongside him. He might feel alone, but he had not been _completely _abandoned.

He _should _have been completely abandoned - but he wasn't.

They continued the walk, for the most part, in complete silence. Apart from the sound of their breathing in the hot, thick air, and the noisy crunching of old grass and rocks beneath their feet, it was totally quiet between the two of them. An odd occurence for this married couple, certainly. is hand started to sweat uncomfortably the farther that they walked, but he didn't dare remove it from Norma's; it was the only connection he had to her right now, and he didn't want to risk losing it for the world. If anything, he only held it even _tighter_ the more time dragged on.

The silence was broken when they drew closer to the main entrance to Thneedville. He'd recognize that giant, flashing sign anywhere; where it had once filled him with a feeling of pride and accomplishment, now he only felt sick to look at it. He gulped, as though he was swallowing his own nervousness, and squared his shoulders, doing his best not to look frightened in front of Norma. He didn't want to hurt her feelings by appearing so hesitant; it wasn't the idea of living in Thneedville with _her_ that intimidated him, it was more just the idea of having to go back and face all of the citizens there again.

Turning to Norma, he nudged her and said quietly, "I love you." He searched her eyes to gauge her reaction, hoping beyond hope that she would be at least halfway responsive to him this time. "You know that, right?"

For a few seconds, Once-Ler was terrified that she wouldn't even answer him. But after a moment, her brown eyes softened and she gave his hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "I-I love you, too," she replied, then dared to offer him the tiniest of smiles. "And listen . . . Once-Ler. Thank you so much for doing all this. I-I mean . . . I'm really happy that you were willing to take a chance with me, because I know how scared this makes you."

"Hey . . . " he grinned sheepishly in return, gently stroking the pad of his index finger along her wedding ring. "It's nothin'. I'm doing it for somebody who I really really _really _care about, so . . . " he leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers, grateful that they finally seemed to be sliding back into their old rhythm. "I don't think I really mind so much. Not anymore, at least."

The shaking in his hands gave him away.

"That's not true," she said softly, observant as ever. Running her fingers along the outside of his hands, she looked up at him through her eyelashes. "I mean, the part about not being bothered by this anymore. I know you're still a little afraid. And that's okay if you are. I-I have to admit, I'm a little nervous too." She looked up at him, almost reluctantly, and swallowed unevenly. "But it'll be alright. You'll see." After a moment's hesitation, she lifted up his hand and pressed a light kiss to his knuckles. "If this is as important to you as it is to me - which I know it is - then we'll find a way through this."

He nodded, but said nothing more. He really felt that, even with just her eyes, his wife had managed to say it all right there. Instead, he merely threaded his fingers through hers once again, and gave her one last smile before the two of them began to walk towards the sign, closer than ever now. He swung their arms as they walked, almost keeping up a sort of rhythm. Almost like they were taking a leisurely stroll through a sunny park on one of their first dates, instead of practically taking a Death March back into the town that he'd singlehandedly ruined. It was infinitely easier for him to think of it more as the first option.

When they arrived in Thneedville, the difference was incredibly noticeable. The first thing that caught the Once-Ler's eye was the most obvious change: the colors. The entire town was like one gigantic palatte of neon - just like he'd imagined. It was bright and happy, welcoming. Not at all like the gray wasteland lurking behind them. He couldn't help himself; tears welled in his eyes as he gazed in a sort of horrified awe at his surroundings, at the tall spires of buildings as they rose to meet the sky. It was everything he'd ever wanted the town to be - the only problem was, now it was beautiful and all things terrible and mystifying at the same time.

The second thing he noticed was the instant hush that had fallen over every single person in town at his arrival. There were, as one could expect in a large, sprawling city, several people milling around outside and going about their usual business. But slowly, one by one, they began to notice what was going on. And every single one of them stopped and turned their heads to look.

Well, more like _gape_, all fish eyes and open mouths and pointing hands.

And then the whispers started.

They began as an indistinct murmur, the general noise and hubbub of a crowd trying to figure out what was going on. But soon enough, the whispers began to shape actual words, and the Once-Ler heard every one of them as clearly as if they were screaming them into his ear. All of them, of course, knew immediately who he was - he was fairly sure that even as weak and exhausted as he looked, the bright green suit and snazzy tie would be a dead giveaway. (He hadn't worn the top hat since the day that the Lorax had been lifted away, and didn't think he ever _would_ again, either - he felt that it made him too tall.) The real confusion was the reason why he was here, he assumed.

He didn't really know what was being said about him in Thneedville these days, but judging from their reactions - which ranged from mildly surprised to completely disgusted and terrified - it couldn't be good.

"Hey! What's _he_ doing here?" shouted a deep male voice in the back of the slowly-forming crowd of people beginning to block the roadways. "Isn't he the guy who did all that stuff to the valley? The news said we _definitely _shouldn't trust him!"

"Couldn't resist, huh?" a slim, birdlike woman in the front of the crowd sneered, looking highly disdainful. "You just had to satisfy that greediness of yours and come back for more - I suppose you're here to take the whole town back now!"

The crowdspeople roared their agreement, the sound surging all around him, and the Once-Ler cringed. He lost his footing for a moment, stumbling a little with surprise, almost as though their words had blown him over where he stood. Norma, gazing at him worriedly, reached for his hand once again, holding it tight. It was extremely hard for him to believe that these were the same people who, mere months ago, had loved him and his company so completely, so unconditionally. It was more than just a little bizarre.

And the way that the crowd just jumped right together and instantly banded around each other - it was too weird. Did they do that to _everyone _who tried to bring something good to their town?

"Don't listen to them," Norma insisted under her breath, a note of strength in her voice that, as always, made his heart do somersaults. If there was ever any reminder why he'd married her, then that was definitely it. "They don't know anything about you, or what you've _been _through just to come here."

He shook his head almost imperceptibly; he was grateful for her support, but he couldn't say that he hadn't expected this sort of reaction. In fact, deep down, a part of him had highly suspected that it would have been much _worse _than just public ridicule. Neither of them were physically injured yet, and they'd been walking through the town for about fifteen minutes now before getting stopped by this crowd. That in itself was a fairly impressive feat, considered how much they all hated him now. What he was really curious to know was how long the two of them could stand out here in the open like this until the townspeople got angry enough to harm either of them - maybe even arrest them.

"S'okay," he mumbled in response to his wife, squeezing her hand lightly. Trying to give her a confident smile, he added quickly, "If anyone can handle this, it's us, right? Besides . . . " he cleared his throat awkwardly, blushing heavily as he lowered his voice for only her to hear, "I told you earlier I'd do anything just to be with you. And I meant it."

He saw the color spread across Norma's cheeks, as well, but was only given a few seconds to enjoy it before a loud voice cut through the commotion, carrying surprisingly well despite the gravelly timbre.

"Weeeeeeell, well, well! What a sight for sore eyes this is!"

The Once-Ler turned away from his wife, his head inclined in the direction of the voice, and his eyes enlarged so much that Norma thought they might pop out of his head. He _knew _he recognized that face from somewhere. That almost triangular head, that glossy black hair, those beady, close-together eyes. The man's attire had changed quite a bit since they'd last spoken to each other; the janitorial uniform had been discarded in favor of a neatly-pressed, crisp business suit, and his skin had cleared up a little. Even the nasally quality to his voice was slowly but surely slipping away - only telltale signs of it ever existing were still there.

"Once-Ler?" Norma questioned, turning to him with an expression of complete bemusement. "What's going on? Do you know him?"

"Eeehhh . . . " Oncie considered this for a moment, not really sure _how _to explain it. "Yeaaaah, I guess you could say that. We talked, like, once, before, at that business dinner where I-I proposed to you." He shrugged lightly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as a light blush colored his face at the mention of their engagement. "To be honest, I'd totally forgotten about the guy until now - I didn't even catch his name. I think his name tag said O'Hare or something like that."

"Thaaaaaat's _right_," said Aloysius O'Hare before Norma could even answer her husband. Giving them both an enormous, obviously fake smile, he edged towards them as fast as his stubby little legs would take him. "Sooooo good of you to come back, Mr. Onceler. But you'll be pleased to know that I'm running this town now."

Norma stiffened. "Can he do that?" she hissed in Oncie's ear, scrunching her eyebrows together with confusion.

The Once-Ler shrugged, unsure of how to answer that, himself. He hadn't actually set foot in the town since his factory had fallen, and hadn't really been all that concerned with who would take it over. He didn't really want anything to do with Thneedville now, even though he'd originally intended to be its mayor. He figured that if O'Hare really wanted to take on such a burden for himself, then he ought not stop him. As tiny as the man was in comparison to the Once-Ler, he couldn't help but feel a little intimidated, anyway. Something about the little man had changed since they'd last met, and it wasn't just his physical appearance; his entire demeanor was much different, as well. He seemed much more . . . confident, somehow, and not in a good way at all.

Just as he drew breath to talk to her, however, he was interrupted again by O'Hare, who laughed loudly, raucously, as he drew nearer to them. "According to everybody else in Thneedville, I can," he answered Norma, smirking with superiority. "Now, look. I don't want to start any trouble here . . . " he flashed them that giant smile again, and it was clear to Oncie through the look in O'Hare's eyes that he really meant the exact opposite of what he'd just said, "but I think that you've seen enough of this town for a looooong time, Mr. Onceler."

The Once-Ler, determined not to look frightened or shaken in the slightest, despite the fact that he could already feel his and Norma's plans unraveling, aimed a sharp glare at Aloysius. Who did this guy think he was, anyway, that he could just tell people based on their past mistakes that they weren't allowed to stay in town anymore? Granted, the Once-Ler didn't want anything to do with Thneedville anyway, but if it meant that he could be with Norma, then he was willing to do just about anything to see it done.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," said Oncie, holding his hands complacently up at level with his chest, giving the townspeople an awkward little smile, unsure of how to approach the situation. The last thing he wanted to do was smile, and it almost felt unfamiliar on his face, but he figured he ought to buck up and be more optimistic sometime soon. "Wait just a minute. What are you talking about?" he pressed.

"Well, of course you _must _realize what we're saying here," said O'Hare, shrugging nonchalantly, as though the answer should be obvious. When the Once-Ler said nothing, despite the coiling suspicion and grim understanding in the pit of his stomach, Aloysius cleared his throat with an air of professionalism and began again, smoothly as ever. "Now that you're out of business, you really have no right as mayor here, so you can't say that you want your town back."

The Once-Ler sighed. He should have expected this reaction. No longer frightened, he was instead a little on the exasperated side as he fought the urge to roll his eyes and instead cleared his throat, stepping forward a little. "Look," he started, his voice a little hesitant at first, as he was just beginning to find his footing in this conversation. "You don't understand. I-I don't _want _that. I don't wanna . . . y'know, take over the town or whatever it is you think I'm trying to do."

"Yes, he's telling the truth!" Norma chimed in, holding his hand so tightly that it almost hurt a little. "We don't mean any harm, we promise."

Her choice of words tickled his funny bone, for some reason. For a moment, the Once-Ler had the most ridiculous thought of _we come in peace_ flashing through his mind. He had to bite his lip against a sudden, highly inappropriate laugh.

Collecting himself at last, he added, much more seriously now that he had calmed down, "Yeah. Listen, we're just looking for a place to stay. Trust me, I don't want any part in being mayor or whatever. I'm past that. All I want is to just, y'know . . . quietly fit back in here."

At this, the murmuring amongst the crowdspeople started up again, full-blast this time, rippling through the multitude that was gathered in the middle of town. The Once-Ler could only imagine what they were saying about him now; his face turned deep crimson just thinking about it. As much as he hated to admit it, he'd always been the sort of person to be deeply affected by what other people thought of him. Of course, he never was the type to let words deter him so _easily_; but all the same, he couldn't help but take everything to heart. Just because he never gave up didn't mean his feelings never got hurt.

"Oh, is that so?" said O'Hare, and the Once-Ler could see a certain darkness behind the man's eyes that he wasn't too sure he wanted to test. It seemed to say, _I dare you to make another move. I dare you to keep challenging my authority_. The danger in that gaze wasn't just a threat; it was a promise. "And you _really _think that you can just 'quietly fit back in', huh? You honestly believe that you won't bring us any more trouble here in town? 'Cause I don't buy that one, not one bit."

The Once-Ler cringed like ice had been thrown down his shirt. He tried to make his reaction imperceptible, but it didn't seem to be working out very well for him. He definitely didn't want O'Hare, of all people, discovering how harrowing this entire ordeal was for he showed any signs of fear, then all the townspeople would jump in on him within a moment's notice, he was sure of it.

"I know it's a long shot," said the Once-Ler, hating how he sounded as if he were almost pleading with them. "But . . . I don't really have anywhere else to go." He shrugged his shoulders, attempting to look casual, but instead merely coming across as a bit awkward. "Y'know, I've already ruined everything just about the most that it _can_ be ruined," he admitted, though the very idea made him physically ill to think about. "There's not a huge chance of me causing even more trouble, not after that."

"Huh!" said Aloysius, glancing back at the crowd with a very false expression of surprise on his face. The townsfolk, however, seemed genuinely stunned at this relevation, and almost looked for a moment or two as if they wanted to believe the Once-Ler instead of their new 'mayor'. "Did you hear that, folks? He swears that there won't be any trouble! That's so curious, y'know, 'cause I could _swear_ that that's what you told your little animal friends before you, err . . . what was it . . . oh, right, _destroyed everything!_"

Well, if there had ever been any chance of getting the citizens of Thneedville on the Once-Ler's side, O'Hare had just ruined it, all with that one sentence. Every possibility that they might have started to believe Oncie's side of the story, even just a little bit, was now completely gone, and they were all in an uproar again, shouting their agreement with their new mayor. Even though he had to admit he'd anticipated this, Oncie couldn't help the sinking feeling in his chest as he watched everyone turning against him, right before his very eyes.

"That's not fair," Norma chimed in immediately, making Oncie's heart ache guiltily. She was still so willing to defend him so vehemently, even after all that he'd done? "That was -"

"Oh, right, right, of course. An _accident_," he finished, false contrition written all over his face. "And who's to say more, uh . . . _accidents_ wouldn't happen as long as you're around here? We wouldn't want _anybody_ to get hurt," he implied through gritted teeth, giving Once-Ler and Norma a pointed stare, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head.

The Once-Ler shivered; he definitely got the implication, clear as crystal. If he and Norma decided to try and actually stay in Thneedville, then Oncie wouldn't be the one causing those _accidents_. They were seriously risking their lives just by being here now; O'Hare would never harm them in public, and risk sullying his reputation like that, but in private, behind closed doors, he could get those bodyguards to really injure them if he wanted to. And the Once-Ler _knew _he did.

"No," said Norma, her voice dangerously icy. Oncie elbowed her quickly, as softly as he could manage, to try and get her to stop, or else risk her own neck, but she persisted, with that same hard calm as before. "No, of course we wouldn't want that. But I don't think we'll have too much to worry about because frankly, you don't strike me as too great a threat."

O'Hare snarled; he meant business now, and the Once-Ler felt fear drop like a block of ice into his stomach. "You might want to be careful," he warned Norma, approaching both of them and dropping his voice so that only the two of them could hear, "or _you'll _be the first to go if you don't hold that tongue." Clearing his throat, he put on that fake smile once again, turning back to the crowd and raising his voice again as he said, a little too cheerfully, "So! I think we understand each other now."

"Norma," said the Once-Ler, a little stiffly and under his breath as O'Hare turned his attention away from them to address the crowd. "Maaaaaaybe we really oughta just go now."

"What?" cried Norma, aghast. "Why? We can't just give up because Shorty here says so."

He sighed, trying his best to be patient. "Look, Norma . . . I don't want you getting hurt. You saw that look on his face just now, didn't you? He really means it! I don't know what he's gonna do if we decide to stay, but I know that I-I can't just stick around and watch you get hurt even _more _because of me."

"We have to try. Even if there's a risk. This is about something that's bigger than you or me, than all of us. If we don't at least make an effort to get them to see what's going on here . . . " her voice trailed off and she swallowed hard, almost as though she was unable to face the thought. "Anyways, it's not just about the trees, either. Don't you want to prove to everyone that we can be more than this? Please, Once-Ler."

When he looked back on it later in life, the Once-Ler wasn't entirely sure what convinced him at that moment in time. He could never decide if it was the pleading in Norma's voice, the desperation in her eyes that he'd never really seen there before, or if it were merely something inside his own heart that he'd been ignoring all this time. He'd always thought himself to be a bit of a pushover, a little on the meek side, but did it turn out that maybe he had a few secret strengths of his own?

At last, he nodded his head, finally having reached a decision. He tried not to allow himself to think too deeply on the matter, knowing that if he second-guessed himself for even a second, he'd turn back. And what was the point of turning back now that they were finally here? Reaching for her hand and squeezing tightly, he did his best to give Norma a tiny smile, comforting both her and himself at the same time.

"Alright," he finally said, unable to keep his voice much louder than a whisper. Nodding again, he repeated, "Alright. We can stay. B-but, listen, Norma, you've gotta promise me something, okay?" He paused, and she nodded, urging him to keep speaking.

Instead, he lifted her face to his, bringing her in for a slow, deep kiss. The two of them hadn't been so blatantly affectionate since the last tree had fallen; both of them had been angry and a little resentful at each other since it had happened, and so a lot of kind words had not been exchanged between them. It felt like it had been forever since they'd been so wholeheartedly eager to display affection with each other again, so much that just this soft, simple kiss nearly took the Once-Ler's breath away.

When he pulled his mouth away from hers, he was a little breathless, his lips parted slightly, both of them lost in their own world, hoping to escape from all the coldness of the world around them just for a few seconds. He pressed his forehead to hers, gulping nervously before finally finishing his sentence. His voice ached with tenderness, and a hope that she would understand that she meant too much for him to ever be able to deal with losing her. Even the possibility frightened him.

He knew she probably wouldn't take him incredibly seriously, but he couldn't help but say it, anyway.

"Be safe."


	27. Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Last Seed

" . . . Looks absolutely ghastly, Norma . . . thin as a bean pole . . . "

"He's been locked up in that office of his for _weeks_, Mother. You wouldn't believe - just lurking around in that dark building all the time. I was so worried about him - I hardly recognized him when I first saw him there, looking like that."

"Gracious. Well . . . we'll do the best we can to keep both of you settled in here. I just wish there were something else we could do for you two. I love him like he's my own son, you know. If there's anything at all that you need, you'll let us know?"

"Yes, of course, Mother. You and Dad have both been so generous already, though, so I wish you wouldn't worry. This is just something that the Once-Ler and I will have to figure out for ourselves, I suppose . . . "

Jean Harlow, who had been standing outside of the doorway to the living room and listening to her mother and Norma's conversation for about fifteen minutes now, moved away from the door with a deep frown creasing across her face. The two older women in the next room continued their talking in their low, murmuring voices, but Jean's attention was elsewhere now that she'd heard all that she needed to hear. She drew a deep breath and tiptoed away from the door, heading down the hallway to where she knew that her older sister's husband would be sitting, likely reading the newspaper or watching television, keeping himself preoccupied. She had heard enough to decide that she needed to talk with him, and fast.

The entire house was very dark, and very quiet. The air was very still; nighttime swam around Jean's ankles. Each floorboard creaked under her bare feet when she walked, despite her efforts to keep quiet; everything sounded much noisier than it actually was in the quietness of the house. It was chilly, but Jean didn't mind being away from the comfort of her warm bedsheets for a few minutes. She was on a bit of a mission, herself, after all, and Jean Harlow never gave up on a spying mission. Especially not one as important as this.

It was well after midnight, and as far as everyone else in the house knew, Jean had actually gone to bed hours earlier, along with her father, who always went to bed early in order to get up and go to work in the small hours of the next morning. But when she had been lying in bed, trying to get to sleep, she'd overheard her mother's and Norma's voices downstairs, and hadn't been able to resist hearing a little bit of the conversation for herself. It had been a long time since she'd heard anything about the condition of Norma's husband - or her sister's marriage entirely, for that matter - and even though the rest of the family thought that they couldn't trust Jean with such information because she was so young, she wanted to make sure for herself that everything was alright. Given everything that had gone on with Thneedville and the factory these past few weeks, she thought she was entitled to be at least a little curious.

However unlikely it might have seemed to any outsiders, especially given Jean's teasing, sarcastic attitude towards her sister, Jean really was genuinely concerned for both Norma and the Once-Ler. After all, she loved her sister, and she loved the Once-Ler like he was the older brother she'd never had. She would never go as far to admit it out _loud_, of course, but . . . she had always looked up to him, in a way. (There'd been a time, back when Norma and the Once-Ler had first started dating, that she'd had a bit of a crush on him, herself, but she was seventeen now, and had long forgotten that embarrassing little tidbit.) It had devastated her to learn of what had happened between them, and she wished that there was something she could do to help.

Which was precisely why she was wandering around her house in nothing but her fluffy yellow nightdress at about two in the morning, being her usual snoopy self.

She had to talk to the Once-Ler. It was imperative. She wasn't entirely sure how seriously he would take her, considering both he and Norma had always considered her highly immature, but she knew that she had least had to try. She _knew _something - something that could, more or less, mean that the possibility of rebuilding the Truffula Valley would be closer than ever. First things first, though, she had to convince the young former businessman that she was serious. Some part of her was afraid that even though she wanted to talk to him, he would push her away or else wouldn't listen. He'd been doing a fair bit of that ever since he'd arrived at the Harlow household earlier today - except to Norma, and even then he would only talk to her in private.

But, given his current situation, she reminded herself, she had to admit that he didn't really have much of a choice in the matter. Besides, she reassured herself with a nod, he would definitely want to hear what she had to say about this.

Jean was immensely grateful, more than anything else, that she had decided to take up gardening and read into plant life a little bit more when she was thirteen years old - back even before Once-Ler and Norma started dating. She'd always found the subject interesting, but had never had much of a green thumb herself - and so during the years that her older sister had been romantically involved with the very man involved with chopping down the trees, Jean had decided to take matters into her own hands by researching the Truffula trees, herself. Her results had been incredibly fruitful, and while she'd never had the chance to share her findings with Norma, who'd been having a hard enough time dealing with her private marital problems as it was, now Jean knew that this was her chance. What she had learned over the years might be enough to help out - even a tiny bit.

Maybe a tiny bit was just the push that they needed.

As Jean drew closer to the end of the hallway, she noticed that the light in the room off to the left was on, casting a faint, orange-yellow glow into the hall. Someone was in the sitting room - the Once-Ler, no doubt. He'd been milling around the house all day in an uncharacteristic sort of daze, the only time he opened his mouth to talk to Norma in hushed, secretive tones or to answer questions that Mrs. Harlow threw his way. Jean had to admit, she felt bad for the poor guy, however much the incident was his fault; she remembered how bright, charming and funny the young man had been before all of this, and knew that the guilt must really be doing things to him if he'd been reduced to such quietness.

Jean felt her heart jump into her throat; she'd been so confident on the way downstairs that what she had to say could change things for good, and that she could easily talk to the man who had caused all this destruction, no problem. But now, she had to admit, she was a little bit . . . tentative. After all, she knew that Norma and the Once-Ler fought a _lot_, especially about the factory, as much as they loved each other; if he was defensive enough about that matter to yell at even his own wife, who was to say that he wouldn't yell at Jean, too? Not that she was exactly intimidated by the Once-Ler himself, it was just that she didn't want to be so quickly shot down when she was only trying to help.

It was always frustrating for Jean to have to deal with the fact that everybody in her family thought of her as some clueless little child. True, some of her interests - celebrity gossip and the like - weren't exactly "scholarly" pursuits, but that was no reason to assume that she was totally brainless just because she wasn't studious like Norma. Nobody ever doubted _Norma's _ability to handle things, because she was levelheaded and practical - even if she did have a bit of a flair for the crazier pastimes every once in a while. Jean just wished that she might be taken a little bit more seriously by her family, and even some of her friends. It seemed completely unfair to just shove her out of the picture entirely, especially in this case when she really could help.

The Once-Ler had always been very fair with her, though, and that was part of the reason why Jean had always adored him so much. He'd never in all the time that she'd known him treated her like she was just his wife's silly kid sister. He was like a tall, skinny older brother in a lot of ways, the kind of person who'd think to bring Jean back little presents from his business trips, like keychains or stationary. It might not have meant a lot to anybody else, but to Jean, it was incredibly significant - and she knew that Norma understood that, too. So maybe, just maybe, there was the slim chance that he'd be willing to accept her assistance.

There was no door into the sitting room, just an archway. But Jean still wanted to alert the Once-Ler to her presence, out of politeness and because he was rather jumpy sometimes and didn't want to scare him, so she raised her fist and rapped her knuckles lightly against the nearby wall three times. She craned her neck to see into the dimly-lit sitting room, peering through the shadows to see where he was. Sure enough, he was seated on the loveseat at the far end of the room, leafing absently through an old photo album. He looked up at the sound of her knocking and edging into the room. Even in the dark, she could see the surprise register on his face; Jean hardly ever approached him for conversation, after all.

"Uh . . . hi," she said after a long pause, figuring that he wasn't going to be too keen on _starting _the conversation when she was the one who had barged in on him. Giving him an awkward little wave, she teetered where she stood for just a moment before fully entering the room, trying to just have a little courage. "Can I talk to you, Once-Ler? Just a second. I-I mean, I don't wanna keep you up if you're, y'know, trying to sleep."

He cleared his throat, and she heard a rustling sound, accompanied by the slightest movement in the shadows of the sitting room. He had gotten up from his seat on the couch, and was moving a little closer to her. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure, no problem. Um . . . what is it you need to talk about, exactly?" He scratched the side of his head wonderingly.

Jean could understand his confusion. They weren't exactly close, after all, no matter how nicely he had ever treated her. She squinted as her eyes slowly adjusted to the change of lighting in the room; there was a lamp on the nearby table, causing the light that she had seen earlier flooding into the hallway, but other than that, the lights were off. Jean grimaced. He sure did like it dark in here. Ugh. She'd always been afraid of the dark, even in her own home. When she looked over at the couch, she realized why; there was a blanket crumpled up on the cushions, and he was dressed in his familiar bunny pajamas. So he'd been trying to sleep, after all.

"Okay, well, before I get into any of that, I wanna ask you one thing," she pushed forward, knowing that if her mind derailed too much she'd never get herself back on track. Clenching her hands into determined little fists at her sides, she stared up at the Once-Ler with her jaw set. "If you don't mind."

"Yeah? What's up?" He raised one eyebrow questioningly, his eyes glinting with curiosity and a little bit of apprehension.

She supposed he was only afraid he'd get more of the Blame Game that everyone had given him since the last tree had been chopped down; it was an understandable fear, especially with her, because no one had given him a harder time about everything than Jean. She'd been devastated to learn of the Once-Ler's downfall, considering how much she looked up to him, and hadn't wanted to let up one minute on letting him know how disappointed she was in him. It was only when Norma specifically asked her to back off did Jean actually listen and give him a break. She realized later on the reason why, too; the Once-Ler really was a good man, deep down. He'd just made one very, very fatal mistake.

She took a deep breath to steady herself. This wasn't the sort of question that seventeen-year-olds normally went around asking their older sisters' husbands, but she felt that it needed to be put out in the open, anyway. She'd always wondered about it, especially lately, when Norma and the Once-Ler seemed to be even more distant with each other than usual. It had been something that, she had to admit, worried her, even if it wasn't really much of her business at all.

"Are you still in love with my sister?"

There was a long, incredibly awkward silence. She saw the stricken, bemused look on the Once-Ler's face and instantly cringed, hoping beyond hope that he didn't think she was just plain crazy for asking him a question like that. Even in the darkness, she could tell that he was blushing furiously, even to the point that the tips of his ears and his neck were a little red, as well. She cleared her throat, waiting for him to answer, but most importantly, she stood her ground. She knew that he would find a way out of answering the question otherwise.

"Wha - Jean, what are you talking about?" he asked, cocking his head to the side slightly with confusion.

"Yooooou . . . you heard me," she replied as smoothly as possible, doing her best to keep her voice level and firm. "I asked you if you love my sister. 'Cause, no offense to either of you, but I'm her little sister and I've gotta make sure of these things sometimes. You have to want to be in the know on your own because nobody else will tell you when you're younger, y'know."

Another throat-clearing between the two of them - this time from the Once-Ler. _Geez_, Jean thought, wrinkling her nose. She had known that it would be awkward, but she hadn't imagined that it would be quite this . . . _caliber_ of awkwardness. She should have known, given the Once-Ler's goofy, sort of dorky personality that this sort of thing would happen. She couldn't just charge into a very private conversation with a guy like him, especially when they very rarely spoke otherwise.

She heard him draw a deep breath. Push his hands through his hair again. Look absently around the room. At last, his eyes landed on hers once again and he nodded quickly, saying in a much softer voice than she'd ever heard from him before, "Okay, if you're really _dying_ to know. Yes. Of course I do. Aaaaaand if you don't mind, I've got a question for _you _now. Um. _Why_ exactly do you wanna know that?"

"Because," she replied simply with a shrug, finally finding her courage once again, "I need to know how important this is to you."

He scrunched his eyebrows together, even more confused by this cryptic remark than ever. "How important _what _is to me?"

As he spoke, Jean was already rustling through the deep pocket of her nightddress. She knew _exactly_ what she was looking for, and hoped that it would make a point, at least. Given the Once-Ler's current situation, he wasn't exactly in a place to say no at the moment. Finally, her fingers brushed against a smooth, rounded surface, and she grinned, fishing it out of her pocket. She held it out so that he could see it in the dark, all but shoving it in his face. A small brown circle, almost resembling a snail shell, pinched between her index finger and thumb. It looked like it was small and significant . . . but Jean, through reading in all of her books, knew better.

The Once-Ler's eyes widened until Jean thought that they might fall from his head. Obviously, _he _knew better than to think it was small and insignificant, too. He knew exactly what was going on, and yet, there was still something curious and questioning in his gaze.

"Waaaaaait a sec. That's not what I _think _it is, is it?" He held up his index finger, gesturing to the tiny answer to all their problems.

Jean gave him a mischievous, knowing grin. "That depends," she said. "What do you think it is?"

"I-I think - it looks like - is that -?" He looked utterly stunned, and even as his voice trailed off, he continued moving his jaw, struggling to find the right words to say. He gave his head a bemused shake, squeezing his eyes shut before quickly opening them again. He could hardly believe what he was seeing.

"It's a Truffula seed," she finished for him, nodding her head quickly, encouragingly. "Crazy, right? With all that's gone on, I betcha you never thought you'd see one of these babies again." Her triumphant smile melted into an apologetic glance as she saw him cringe at her words. She softened her tone just a tiny bit, biting her lip. "Oh, I-I'm sorry, Once-Ler. I didn't mean it like _that_. I just . . . well, y'know. Anyways. Here, take a look for yourself," she finished, gingerly handing the seed to him.

He held the seed in the palm of his hands with all the carefulness that one might hold up the head of a sleeping infant, his eyes wide and reverant. He seemed awestruck and a little fearful all at once, as if he almost didn't even trust himself to be holding it like this.

"Where . . . " he swallowed hard, and Jean could see his Adam's apple moving for a moment, "where did you get this, Jean?" His voice sounded dry and shaky, the staggering disbelief even making him tremble a little.

The grin on her face widened. Pleased with herself, Jean announced, "I found it in the Valley a long time ago, right when your business was first getting its legs I guess. Remember the day we all went over for that picnic?" Without waiting for an answer, she pressed on. "Norma only really halfway notices, but I've always had a real thing for gardening. I've never been really good at it, but surprise-surprise, I actually like reading about it! Sooooo, I just decided to take this little guy home for some research. I've kept it with me for a long time."

"R-Really?" he gasped, looking a little more at peace with the idea with every second that went by. He relaxed just a little bit more the longer he stared at the seed, though he still looked shaken. He looked alternatively from the seed to Jean, gulping again before saying, "I never knew. D'you know how long they take to grow back? I-I mean, this might be my chance to _fix_ everything."

Jean nodded. "I think I probably have all that written in a book of mine upstairs, with all my other stuff," she said, gesturing with her thumb to the left, in the general direction of the staircase outside of the sitting room and far down the hallway. "But you know what the best part is? This isn't the _only _Truffula seed I've got."

If it were possible for the Once-Ler to look any more shocked than he already did, then he accomplished it. He looked up at her, his eyes very blue and very bright against the dimly-lit backdrop of the sitting room, his face paling. His eyebrows rose so far upward on his forehead that she had the amusing thought that they might slide all the way off his face and disappear into his bangs.

"What?" he sputtered. "Y-You mean, there's more? Well, why didn't you just say so? D'you even realize how important that could be? I-I don't believe - I thought - why didn't you tell me all this back when there was still time for me to have _re-planted_?" He didn't sound angry, but the tension in his voice was very telling indeed. It just sounded more like he really didn't know _what_ to think.

Jean, refusing to be intimidated, immediately fired back with her answer. "Well, how was I supposed to _trust_ you, first of all? I mean . . . you _were_ the guy who was chopping all the trees down at the time that I started collecting them. Remember? No offense or anything, because I like you, but how was I supposed to know whether or not you'd take care of the seeds if I showed them to you?" She cleared her throat and arched her eyebrow imperiously. "If I'd let you plant them, you probably would've just gotten impatient and cut them all down before they could finish maturing, anyhow."

"H-hey - that's not - " he stammered, but he cut himself off awkwardly, his cheeks flushing dark red. The realization hit him suddenly that, even though Jean's assumptions were wrong, she had a good number of reasons to think that way. He hadn't exactly given her enough reason to doubt it, after all.

"What? Not fair?" she finished, folding her arms across her tiny chest. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to appear indifferent. "Maybe. But like I said, I didn't exactly know you all that well back then, and I was doing all I could to make sure these stayed safe. Good thing I did hold onto 'em, after all. Huh?"

He sighed, but nodded his head complacently, giving his hand a dismissive wave. He didn't look too happy about having to admit when he was wrong and Jean was right, but he gritted his teeth and did it anyway. "Yeah, I guess so." Relaxing a little bit, he clutched the seed in his hand and looked first to it, then to Jean, a resolved look on his face. "We've gotta get back out there to the Valley," he said, "and plant them all again."

"Yeah," she agreed. "But the thing is . . . we've gotta get there and take care of things without you-know-who noticing." The way she put emphasis on the word and widened her eyes meaningfully, the Once-Ler knew exactly to whom she was referring.

"You mean O'Hare," Oncie replied, nodding with agreement. "It won't be easy, but we've gotta try. Do you know any ways to get around this town without him noticing? I-I mean, Norma and I were here for maybe fifteen minutes, tops, before he realized we were walking around in his neighborhood. There's gotta be some way around him, right?"

Jean bit her lip and sighed, for the first time realizing just how many obstacles really were in their way. After all, though he might let his temper get the best of him most of the time, Aloysius O'Hare was certainly not dumb. He always seemed to have a way to keep tabs on the town, though he seemed especially relient on the security cameras placed randomly throughout the entire place. There wasn't really such thing as privacy when it came to Thneedville. No one even knew where the cameras were placed, or whether or not their own homes were being filmed. O'Hare claimed up and down that it was for security measures, but it was unsettling, nonetheless.

They'd have to do a lot of thinking to get past all that security, now wouldn't they?

"He's got cameras everywhere," she explained, though she couldn't help the disappointment in her tone of voice. She hated that it sounded like she had already given up, but she really couldn't think of any options that might make getting out of town easier on them. "As far as I know, there's no real way we _can_ sneak out without him seeing. He'd have us caught the minute we left, I think."

"Then . . . we've gotta think up a plan," the Once-Ler insisted, clearly not about to give up his one chance at redemption for anything. Jean had to admit, she had to admire his determination, at least. "We can't just let this slip through our fingers."

"Well . . . in that case, it'll need to be one heck of a plan," Jean replied, a little flippant and dismissive despite herself. "Security's preeeeeeetty tight here in Thneedville. I'm sure it's not at all how you imagined it." She gave him a slightly cautious glance, then frowned a little and reached up to awkwardly pat his shoulder. "Personally, I would totally prefer you as mayor over this guy. Just . . . maybe _without_ your factory. I wish there was more I could do."

"Hey . . . " he answered, patting her shoulder in return and giving her a tiny, barely-there smile. "Don't worry about it. I guess . . . " he took a deep breath, glancing around the room before adding contemplatively, "I guess this is all sorta _my_ responsibility, anyway. Not anyone else's. It's not something I think I can do alone, but at the end of the day, even if I _do _get help, I'm still the one who has to make up for . . . " he swallowed hard, almost as though he didn't even want to face it, "all this. Everything I've done."

Jean gave him a quick once-over, studying his features for just a few moments, biting her tongue thoughtfully. When she looked at him now, it was almost hard for her to remember the bright, happy-go-lucky young fellow that Norma had brought home for the first time all those years ago. Of course, he hadn't changed entirely, and those traits were still there, but they were difficult to see buried underneath his shame and guilt like that. He seemed so defeated nowadays, so sad. And now he was seeing this as his one opportunity to fix what he'd destroyed, not only redeeming himself but putting the environment at peace again, as well. It was so saddening to think that such abject devastation was what it took to open his eyes. If only he'd seen just a little bit sooner.

Finally, Jean concluded, "Norma's never gonna leave you. You know that, don't you?" She looked up at him expectantly.

He blushed darkly, clearing his throat and awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. It had always been fairly clear to Jean that the Once-Ler loved Norma, but it was moments like these, where he seemed so determined just to be good to his wife, only cemented the idea even further.

"Well, I really hope not," he said at last, his voice a little shaky, as though he were trying to decide what he was feeling at the moment. "But I think I've realized that too, now. I-I mean, she's already had every opportunity in the world to leave - I think anybody else probably _would _have - but . . . she _stayed_." His voice faded off a little at the end of his sentence and his facial expression turned much softer, awestruck and almost disbelieving.

"Yeah, I know," answered Jean, nodding pointedly. "And d'you know what that means? She's giving you a second chance. So you better not mess this one up. I know my sister, and keeping her promises are important - especially the promise she made to be your _wife_. So she'll stick to you know matter what happens. So, whatever happens, promise me you're gonna take care of her. She's my sister. And I have to know she'll be safe with you."

There was another long pause between the two of them, and for a moment, Jean feared that she had said too much and all but ruined any connection she might have established with him. His blue eyes were very bright in the darkness as they studied her, his cheeks turning pink with a mix of embarrassment and a dawning realization. She was painfully aware of how awkward the whole situation must be for him, getting lectured by his wife's little sister and having to move in with her family just because everyone else hated him too much. Hopefully, though, this could be their chance to finally make everything better.

He gave her a long, level stare, swallowing heavily. At last, he cleared his throat and nodded, first once, then twice, and said, "Hey. You don't have to worry about that at all, 'kay?" He gave her a reassuring little smile, finally looking like the big-brother figure he'd always been, rather than the sad man he'd become. "Maybe I'm not, y'know, perfect or anything. But I'm always gonna try as best as I can to make sure she's safe and happy. That matters to me more than anything, you know that? I promise."

And this time, when he promised, it looked completely and entirely sincere. Even though she knew how easily he had broken his promises in the past, she couldn't help but believe him now. After all, he'd already lost so much - almost everything, except for his wife, thankfully. He couldn't possibly even want to face the chance of losing anything else. This was the first time Jean had ever seen the Once-Ler as a vulnerable young boy, scared of the world around him, instead of just some hot-shot businessman acting like a rockstar and who happened to be married to her older sister.

"Thanks," Jean said gratefully at last, her shoulders losing their tension in an instant. "I guess sometimes I just really need to hear that, just to be sure." She exhaled, them gave him a tiny smile. "Come on. The rest of the Truffula seeds are upstairs, in my room." She reached for his hand, the smile on her face turning a little more encouraging. "Follow me."

* * *

Aloysius O'Hare drew a deep breath from the crisp, cold night air as he stared at Number 14, Pontoffel Lane, his heart pounding a sickening drumbeat in his chest. The nervousness on his face gradually melted into a determined glower, and he clenched his tiny, stubby hands into fists at his sides. He'd never done something like this before, at _this _level of desperation to keep his town and business safe, but it had to be done. This little situation with the Once-Ler coming back to town would not be a problem for him - merely a hiccup. One that he fully intended on working past.

He was flanked on either side by Mooney and McGurk, all three of them staring silently at the house's front door. It was better that they work under the cover of night. That way, it could be labeled an accident more easily, without all the townspeople running around asking questions. O'Hare had been planning all day, and originally, his bodyguards hadn't wanted to go along with it. Naturally, it had only taken a few threats of losing their jobs to get them back on the right side. His side. This was a project that he couldn't tackle alone; he might have the intelligence, but his short, compact body wouldn't really be the best for this. (Plus, he needed more people to place the blame on, should he happen to get caught, anyway.)

O'Hare didn't want the Once-Ler, his wife, or their family dead - that would be far too suspicious for his own comfort. Everyone in town would immediately realize that it had been Aloysius' doing if the Once-Ler and everyone associated with him turned up dead only a short while after O'Hare had publicly threatened them. This was just for the sole purpose of scaring them into leaving town - for good this time. Because when they left, O'Hare had a plan to keep them out this time around. He'd already started work on it now, in secret, and by the time they left, it would be operational and ready to keep them out.

Thneedville was getting a new addition of sorts: a giant wall surrounding the perimeter of the entire town. That way, nobody could get in _or _out. Beyond the town, there was a decimated valley of tree stumps, rolling gray hills and thick black smog. Nobody but the Once-Ler, who'd been spending so much time out there during his time as a businessman anyway, could even live there, but everyone who lived in Thneedville at this time had seen it. That was why they were so ready to accept O'Hare as their new mayor, because they knew he had something they needed and were willing to pay to get it. The wall wasn't really to protect this generation, but the generations to come; there would come a time when nobody was around to remember trees, and when that happened, O'Hare needed the wall to make sure that they never found out that they could be buying air for free. As long as he let them know that he was providing a necessity, that was all that mattered.

First things first, though, he had this current problem to take care of. And he knew exactly what he had to do to carry out his little plan.

He glanced first to Mooney, his beady little eyes positively steely in the darkness. He wasn't sure what time it was exactly, but he knew that they didn't have a lot of time to work with, anyway. "Ready?" he growled, careful to keep his voice hushed, in case he woke the neighbors - or worse, the people actually _inside _Number 14.

"As we'll ever be, boss," Mooney responded, his voice a low rumble in the shadows. He was dressed in his bodyguard's uniform, making him seem like a gigantic, looming black wall in O'Hare's vision.

"Well," sighed Aloysius as he looked up at the house, taking in the sight of it standing. It wouldn't be that way for long. "Let's get this over with, then, shall we?" He looked over at Mooney one last time, then gave him a short, quick nod, signaling to set their plan into motion. "Douse it," he commanded simply.

Without another word between them, the two bodyguards did as they were told, stepping forward and beginning to drench the house with accelerants. The smell hung in the air, sour and sharp, stinging O'Hare's nostrils. He wrinkled his nose distastefully, hoping they could get this over with soon. As much as he enjoyed knowing that soon, he wouldn't have anything to worry about, the actual business of carrying out this plan was a different story entirely. He'd always been a bit of a coward, despite himself. He couldn't help that.

He watched Mooney and McGurk's every movement intently, his eyes trained on the house, just in case they happened to do something wrong. After all, even though they possessed incredible physical strength, they weren't exactly the smartest guys around. He stood watch carefully, also making sure that none of the neighbors were woken from their slumbers in the nearly-identical houses along the street. It would be most unfortunate if they came out into the street and demanded to know what was going on. Having to silence a whole group of people would be much more difficult than just one measly washed-up salesman and his family.

When Mooney and McGurk were finished with their part of the plan, O'Hare stepped forward. Suddenly, the box of matches in his pocket felt like it weighed a ton, burning a hole against his thigh - figuratively speaking, thankfully. He gave the house a long, sad gaze, for a few seconds wondering if he could actually go through with this. Manipulative businessman though he was, he was still human, and all human beings have consciences to some degree. It was just a matter of whether or not they listened to them, and whether or not they allowed it to rule over their every decision.

Aloysius O'Hare, fortunately for his sake, was not one of those people.

And it was for this precise reason that he was able to take a deep breath, gulp, and step forward. He lit the match, the flame bursting and pulsing bright orange-yellow in his vision, like a fallen star. He threw it down, effectively sealing the fate of everyone involved.

The match went down, and the house lit up.

* * *

"Hey, Jean. Not that I'm not, like, tooooootally interested in this botany lesson you're giving me here," said the Once-Ler from where he was perched on the girl's four-poster bed, poring over notes and research about the Truffula seed, "but can I interrupt you for a minute? I smell something . . . burning." He wrinkled his nose, sniffing. Was he possibly imagining things?

No, he was _sure_ that he smelled it. It was definitely there, but what could it be? Sometimes the toaster downstairs smelled like that when it was overheated, and could easily fill the whole house with the headache-inducing odor, but it felt . . . thicker now. Heavier.

He glanced to Jean warily, who shrugged her shoulders, skeptical. "I dunno what you're talking about," she said, glancing around the room before giving an experimental sniff, herself. "I don't smell anything."

He held up his hand, palm facing her, and gave his head a slight shake. "Are you _sure_?" He grimaced, then, unable to help the tingling in his throat, actually gave a cough because of the strength of the scent. Okay, there was no way he could be imagining that. "'Cause I don't know about you, but I totally smell smoke."

Jean tightened her grip protectively on the green and brown cardboard box that she was holding in her arms. It contained the Truffula seeds that she had been collecting all this time; there were about twenty or so, all of them healthy and ready to germinate. She really didn't look like the type to care much for gardening or science or research - especially when he looked around her bedroom and noticed all the boy band posters, celebrity gossip magazines, and other frivolous things - but the Once-Ler supposed that this just proved not to make assumptions based on appearances. He wondered for a moment if she thought that something as simple as the smell of smoke would harm the seeds. Considering all the harm that the smogulous smoke had done to the mature Truffula trees, it wasn't that far-fetched of a thought, to be honest.

She sniffed again, harder this time, almost to the point of being a tad overdramatic. "Nope," she insisted, her eyes widening curiously. "Still nothi - AAHH!"

Jean's screams were caused by the loud, piercing sound of the smoke alarm suddenly surging through the entire house, insistant and strident. The Once-Ler jumped so violently with surprise that he almost threw his tall, lanky body off Jean's bed. Instead, he scrambled to his feet, eyes widening with disbelief. Within seconds, the room felt warmer; the Once-Ler's heart began to race. This couldn't be good.

"Okay, what's going on?" he asked, glancing around the room.

"Well, don't ask _me_!" Jean fired back, just as incredulous as he was, her eyes about to bug out of her head. "I'm just as clueless as you are, y'know!"

The Once-Ler reached forward, seizing Jean's wrist, hoping that he wasn't being too rough but not really giving himself the time to care. "Come on, let's get downstairs. Something's going on, we've gotta get outta here."

When he opened Jean's bedroom door and the two of them rushed out into the hallway, heading for the staircase, they immediately found out what it was. The entire bottom floor, even a little part of the stairwell, was quickly being swallowed up by a roaring wall of bright orange flames. So shocked was the Once-Ler that he didn't even think about how the thick clouds of smoke were already beginning to make his nostrils tingle and his lungs sting; it was all he could do to just stand upright without his knees buckling in on himself. He could hear Jean yelping and screaming beside him as she dodged the heated ash particles flying through the air, but it all just seemed to go in one ear and out the other, without any real lasting effect.

"What do we do?" she cried, nearing hysteria. "Where's Norma and Mom and Dad?" She darted forward, heading for the staircase despite the fact that the fire was edging its way across the room to the foot of the stairs, anyway. "I have to find them and make sure they're okay!" she called over the crackling of the blaze.

"W-Wait - no, Jean, wait, come back!" At last, it seemed to register for the Once-Ler that there was smoke filling the room, and he let out a dry cough, pausing for just a moment. He narrowed his eyes against the haze and headed for the stairs, as well, adding, "Hang on, stay here a-and I'll go look! You're gonna get hurt!"

Not that he was really looking forward to the possibility that _he_ could get hurt, too, but he thought it best not to discuss that. Though he had to admit, he could certainly be a bit cowardly when the situation called for it, it was an entirely different story when his wife was in danger. Adrenaline was what was driving him forward, and for once in his life, he decided not to let himself be such a little pushover.

"I'm _going_, Once-Ler!" Jean fired back, once he had made it to the top of the staircase. She was already halfway down, the Truffula seeds still in tow. "Why don't you just come with me? Obviously we need to get out, _now_, anyway!"

The Once-Ler sighed, already feeling a thin sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. Obviously, she wasn't going to drop this anytime soon, and they didn't exactly have seconds on their hands to spare. He waved his hand artlessly, giving her a conceding nod, simply for the sake of getting a move on. Norma couldn't be far from them, after all - the house wasn't a mansion, for crying out loud.

"Okay, okay, already," he breathed, taking her wrist once again and hurrying down the stairs without further preamble. "Let's just hurry up, alright?"

The two of them stumbled down the stairs, and he cringed with every creaking sound the wood gave under his feet. The fire was raging even worse downstairs; he had to wonder what in the world could have caused something this bad. It didn't seem like a normal stove fire or something caused by an electrical accident, even. It was burning far too strongly for that. In all the confusion, these thoughts only made it even worse, and it was all he could do to even stay on his feet. He gulped, hoping beyond hope that everyone else was okay - Norma especially - and hurried down the hall.

"Norma!" he called, his voice half-strangled by the smoke. He blinked hard, trying to clear the haziness from his eyes. Waving his hands to clear the air in front of his face, he grimaced, coughed, then said again, "Hey, Norma! Are you okay? Norma?"

A response, faint and faraway in all the chaos. "Once-Ler?"

He raised his eyebrows, his heart lifting immediately. Now, he knew that voice. Norma. Thank goodness. He glanced to Jean, who looked instantly relieved, as well, though they both seemed to understand without even saying anything that they weren't quite out of the woods yet. Nonetheless, he hurried towards the sound of his wife's voice, not really thinking about much else. As long as he knew that she was safe; that was what mattered right now.

"Yeah, Norma, I'm right here!" he said in return, trying his best to talk over all the commotion. No one was actually making any noise, but the fire itself was loud, roaring and whoosing around them almost like a storm of its own. "You're okay, right?"

Before he could get an answer, his body collied with something solid. Not just some_thing _- some_one_. He stumbled backwards, his arms pinwheeling to avoid falling down; he was just barely able to get his footing by grabbing onto the wall off to his left, thankful that at least that much wasn't burning yet. He squinted, and through the smoke came a short, curvy silhouette; he barely got enough time to register who it was before the shadow leaped forward and seized him in an embrace so tight that it literally knocked the air out of him. Soft corkscrew curls brushed against his cheek, and immediately his heart soared in his chest.

"N-Norma!" he sputtered, beyond relieved that she was at least alright. "Wh-what's going on? I-I don't - I - " he pulled back, his hands still firm on her shoulders, and he took in her soot-faced, disheveled appearance. "Oh, man. I-I'm just glad you're okay."

"I could say the same about _you_," she breathed, staring at him with an incredulous, tender thankfulness. She reached up and stroked his cheek slowly, but when the smoke filled her lungs and forced a cough from her throat, she was brought back to reality with a jolt. "Oh, I-I'm really glad you're alright, but what are we doing standing around here? Let's go!"

"Oh. R-Right!"

He interlaced his fingers through hers, both of their palms sliding with sweat. He could feel it prickling at the back of his neck, too, now, and the sweat on his forehead was getting slicker by the second. Through the smoke, it was hard to tell which direction led for the door, but he made a wild guess and headed right, tugging Norma along with him. He tried not to concentrate on the growing feeling of claustrophobia in the room as the flames rounded in on them. He was so relieved to be reunited with his wife and know that she was alright, he could hardly think of anything else.

"Mom and Dad got out just fine," Norma informed him as they rushed for the door; he sighed in relief as he saw it at the end of the hall. "I did, too, at first, but I insisted on coming back to get you and my sister. What were you two doing, anyway?" There was no suspicion in the question, merely confusion, considering the fact that despite how nice the Once-Ler had always been to Jean, they never really spent time together otherwise.

Jean, who had finally managed to catch up to her sister and was now scurrying alongside her, butted in and said, "Oh, nothing. I was just answering both of your prayers, that's all." She gave Norma a wicked grin, even through the smoke, and held up the box of Truffula seeds. "If we get out of here right now and get started re-planting these things, there's no telling _what _we could do."

The Once-Ler saw the recognition and shock register across Norma's face, very faintly, for just an instant. "J-Jeanie," she stammered, stumbling to a halt for a moment to get a look at the Truffula seeds, "where did you - "

"Later," she answered promptly, using one hand to give her sister a light shove down the hall. "We don't exactly have a whole lot of time to spare right now, Norma."

Jean hurried forward, and Norma and the Once-Ler trailed behind, but the redheaded girl didn't get very far. In the living room closest to the front door, the carpet was starting to peel up in places where the fire had started to reach; apparently, Jean was so busy heading for the door that she didn't notice this. Norma and the Once-Ler were busy dodging these little hills, trying not to trip, but Jean was snared. She stumbled towards the ground, arms flailing, and almost in slow-motion, the box flew from her hands. The Once-Ler froze, unable to bring himself to move, even though he knew he ought to be doing something. He saw the Truffula seeds soar through the air, watched in horror as all of them fell into the flames -

-and then felt Norma's hands, firm and insistant, pushing against his back.

"Come on, Once-Ler, we've gotta go!" she cried, screaming as flames reared up behind her, almost out of nowhere. She stumbled out of the way as hurriedly as possible, all but dragging her husband along with her.

He shook his head, yanking his wrist away with all the strength he could muster, and stumbled towards the seeds, searching for where they had fallen and hoping that not all of them had burned up. He sank to his knees, threading his fingers through the carpet, his eyes straining past the smoke. There had to be one left, at least one. _Please, please, let there be at least one _. . .

There!

The tightness in his chest instantly relaxing, he exhaled with relief. Buried in the carpet was a tiny Truffula seed that had managed to land just outside of the flames. He could see the rest of them nearby, but all of them had been reduced to practically ash by this point. He gulped, and reached for the last seed, stuffing it deep into his pocket before hurrying back to his feet again. Norma sighed, both sad and hopeful all at once, and grabbed her husband's arm. Together, both of them left the house, Jean following close behind them.

"I-I'm sorry," Jean stuttered as they filed out onto the lawn, where Martin and Louise Harlow were staring in horrified awe at the only home they'd ever known going up in flames. "I didn't mean to trip - I guess I just wasn't paying attention - were any of them okay, or are all of the seeds gone?" she asked the Once-Ler, looking almost as desperate as he had felt when he'd seen the seeds first fall into the fire.

When they were far enough away from the blaze for him to think straight, he nodded his head quickly, passing his hand across his face for a minute to calm himself down. "I got one," he confirmed, his throat a little scratchy from the smoke. Clearing his throat, he added, "All the others were ruined, but I managed to at least get my hands on one. Has anyone called, like, the fire department yet? Anything?"

"My parents did," said Norma softly at his side, still holding onto his arm, as if it were the only thing truly keeping her steady. "Oh, Once-Ler, I am so sorry. I-If I'd known that all of this was gonna happen . . . I guess I was wrong after all. Maybe there's really no chance of us coming back here - not to stay, at least."

They were standing in the street now, shivering in the night air even though it was actually a comfortable temperature outside. The cold they were feeling certainly wasn't from the air, that was for sure. Louise was shaking hard in her husband's arms, and Martin was stroking her back gently, though he looked pale and ashen, as if he needed comfort, as well. Jean rushed over to greet her parents, leaping towards them and seizing them both in a bone-crushing embrace. A few of the neighbors had filed onto the streets by now, watching in silent curiosity, mouths agape, sometimes exchanging whispers to one another.

"Hey," he said softly, pulling her gently off to the side in order to get a little more privacy with her. Looking Norma carefully in the eyes, searching her brown irises with his blue, he placed his hands lightly on her shoulders and said, "Why d'you say that? Look, this was just an accident - it doesn't mean we can't still stay here - I mean, well, obviously not _here_ here, but . . . " he gulped nervously, his voice dying off as he at last comprehended the meaningful look in her eyes. "Wait a second. You don't think - "

"Well, it's only plausible, isn't it?" Norma responded, shrugging her shoulders slightly, trying to soften her gaze as best as possible, for his sake. "I mean, think about it, Once-Ler. The most powerful man in town wants us out of his way and out of his town. This has gotta be some kind of threat." She glanced to the house, and he could see tears glistening in her eyes, though they remained unshed. Her lower lip trembled, but she for the most part succeeded in keeping the crying at bay. "As much as I'd love to have you always with me, it's not worth risking your life for it."

He grabbed her, not too roughly, and pulled her in for a tight embrace, his mouth close to her ear as he whispered shakily, "B-But Norma . . . I-I know I wasn't too keen on the idea at first, but look, if you need me, I can't go back there." He swallowed hard, then murmured, "I-I _love_ you. I can't let you down anymore. I already ruined everything once. I don't wanna ruin being married to you, too."

She sighed softly, her fingers brushing against the feather-soft hairs at the nape of his neck. She rocked slightly as they hugged, in some absurd attempt to comfort him, her heart pounding like a war drum. "You won't ruin our marriage - don't say that," she said reassuringly. "We'll figure this all out. I promise. But we can't keep putting you and my family in jeaopardy like this." She pulled back from him slightly, regarding him somberly. "This was no accident. The longer we stay here, the more O'Hare's just gonna try to find a way to get us out. Or at least you. And I don't want you hurt because of this. Or Jean or my mom and dad."

The Once-Ler's heart sank as he drank in the despair in her eyes. It pained him deeply, to the very core, and for a few seconds he was unsure if he could even bear it. Truthfully, deep down, he really hadn't wanted to be right about coming back to Thneedville. The old part of him, that familiar optimism that he'd never truly lost, had longed to be able to return to the town that he'd all but ruined, and finally get not only some redemption, but the chance to try and have a normal life with his wife. Start a family, maybe. Even though he'd expceted something like this to happen, he couldn't help but feel that sinking disappointment, anyway, when he was proven right.

"I'm just so glad you're alright," he sighed at last, knowing that he certainly wasn't going to be able to change her mind by now. Not after all this. "Hey, can I ask you a favor?" he said softly, clearing his throat against the scratchiness caused by the smoke.

"Yes, of course," she replied almost immediately, leaning in just a bit. Her eyes widened behind her spectacles. "You know I'd do anything for you."

He tucked a curly lock of hair behind her ear, promptly giving her a light kiss on the forehead. "If you need me," he mumbled, pressing his forehead to hers gently, "will you _please_ tell me? If I'm going back . . . _there_, then I wanna know the very second if you ever need me. And I'll come back, okay? I don't care how much I'd be risking." He wanted to say that she was all he had left to lose, anyway, but kept his mouth shut, deciding that some things were better left unsaid. It might just be best not to worry her by talking that way.

He could tell by the look on her face she didn't exactly approve of this decision between the two of them. Neither of them wanted to go back to the Lerkim and be separated from each other, but it seemed given the circumstances that they really didn't have any other options. They'd have to find another place for Norma's family to stay for a while, of course, in addition to all their other problems as far as housing went. And now they had to deal with being apart from each other, as well. It just didn't seem fair at all.

"Okay," she finally said, nodding slowly. "I will. I promise. And you promise you'll stay safe."

She leaned in and kissed his cheek, so loving, so warm and comforting with him, despite how much he had hurt her and destroyed the environment around them already. If it weren't for all that, then they still _could_ be together. Moments like these, as much as they made his heart flutter and his cheeks turn red, also made him feel a little guilty - well, more than a little. Why should she be so kind to him, when he'd done nothing to deserve anything like that from her?

"Yeah," he responded after a moment's pause, nodding his head quickly, kissing her on the cheek in return. His voice was uncharacteristically soft and tender as he stroked through her hair and added, "I promise. A-and I'm _so _sorry about _all _of this. You know that, right? I'm so sorry." He pulled her in for another hug, this one a little more desperate than the last.

"I know you are, Once-Ler," she whispered, nuzzling lovingly against his neck. "Don't blame yourself, okay? It's all over now. It's over. I know you make snap judgements sometimes, and you don't really think before you act a lot of the time. But you're not bad. You're a good person, do you understand? And I love you. I'm just so worried about you being alone in that place for so long. Even if I do visit, I won't be there _with _you all the time. You'll be lonely."

He sighed a little, not really knowing how to comfort her. After all, of course he would be lonely. He would be living all alone in the valley that he'd destroyed singlehandedly, without even the comfort of his wife to heal the wounds left behind. So how could he reassure Norma that he would be alright when even he doubted that he would be? Something in her eyes seemed to let him know that she probably was thinking the exact same thing that he was, but there was still a part of him, deep down, that was reluctant to voice it. It might hurt both of them too much to even think about.

"Well, then . . . I'll have to make do, I guess," he said, trying to be firm but failing miserably. Gulping, he continued, "I love you, but we really don't have much of a choice, either way." Giving another, defeated little sigh, he slumped his shoulders and kissed her hand lightly. "I'm gonna miss you, though. I'll call every day. A-and you can call me too, whenever you want. And I'll write - as often as I can - "

He was still talking, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of the sirens of the fire trucks approaching, first softly, then gradually getting louder. He could practicaly see the relief flooding through Norma as the trucks reached their house, her eyes brightening hopefully, even just a fraction. Still, the tension never left her shoulders, and as she pulled him in for a deeper, more lingering kiss, he could still feel her jaw slightly clenched. She was trembling in his arms; obviously, this hadn't been a winning night for _anybody_.

"We'll figure out what to do in the morning," she promised him. "You could just . . . you could just hold me for now," she suggested, offering him the faintest of smiles. She settled herself in closer to him, resting her head on his chest. "I feel like I'm going to break without you."

In an attempt to cheer her up a little and take her mind off the traumatizing events of the night, he gave her a gentle little nudge, trying out a tiny smile on his own features, as well. She grinned in return upon seeing the brightness in his happy-go-lucky gaze; for the first time since the fall of the factory, she was seeing his old personality finally come back, like he was returning from the dead to fight the sad man who'd taken his place. He smoothed back her hair, kissing the crown of her head, pulling her into his arms and holding her as securely as he always did. For a few seconds, everything felt normal, as if their whole lives hadn't been so changed within the past few weeks that there was no real point of looking back.

"Hey," he said after a moment's pause, his voice soft and tender. "You won't break. I wouldn't let that happen. And I don't think _you _would, either. You're _Norma Once-ler_, remember? Since when have you ever let anything break you?" The grin on his face widened. "Look, I know you're not indestructible. I mean, no one is, y'know? But you're pretty darn close, if you ask me."

If his words hadn't been enough to warm her heart, then his smile certainly was. That's how he always had been, though, able to cheer her up no matter what. It was good to see him slipping back into his normal interactions with her, at least, though she doubted that he would ever truly be the same again. She knew that he wouldn't ever forgive himself, no matter what anyone existed. But it was a comfort that he could still look at her and speak to her so tenderly, making her heart flutter against her rib cage, just like when they first started dating. It had been a long time since they'd been so affectionate with each other, without his broken promise and her anger creating such a wall between them.

Pulling him down by the lapels into another kiss, she sighed, nuzzled against his neck, and murmured, "I really love you, Once-Ler. I promise, everything's gonna be okay. I made a promise to you, too. To keep you safe. And that's a promise I'm not about to let myself break."

And when he heard the sincerity in her voice, the Once-Ler realized something about himself, as well. He wasn't about to break any more promises, either. He'd done enough of that already. He was so tired of disappointing everyone around him, of taking all this forgiveness and not doing anything to actually deserve it.

From now on, he was determined to make a difference. Even if he had to hold onto this Truffula seed for who knew _how _long to do it.


End file.
